


Compassion

by makoredeyes



Category: Titanfall (Video Games)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Polyamory, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2020-05-14 14:57:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 72,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19275649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makoredeyes/pseuds/makoredeyes
Summary: Five years after Typhon, Kuben Blisk stood at rock bottom, gazing longingly at the high road. It was going to be a hard climb, but Jack was waiting at the top.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pilot Ryan (SunGryphon)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunGryphon/gifts).



\--1--

He swore, snarling as they were shaken by another explosion, too close.

"Damn it all where th' hell's our backup?!"

"IMC forces have dwindled to six percent, Pilot." The gravelly rumble of his Legion was usually always a reassurance to Blisk, even when it gave him bad news, but this time he felt his gut seem to drop out of his body. Help was not coming. They were alone.

"Get us out'ta here, Red," he hissed, already planning their retreat. This was not what he had signed up for. When had the Militia gotten so ferocious, so well organized? He hadn't seen a clean sweep from either side in a long time, and from the IMC's considerable strength on the drop, he never considered this battle would become a loss.

"On it, Boss," the Legion rumbled, twisting in its gradually accelerating stride to return fire to the resistance tanks giving chase.

"Knew Ah should'a brought in more help," Blisk groused. He and Red had been the sole members of his outfit since the massacre on Typhon five years ago. Nothing had been the same after that job, and while he wouldn’t admit to himself or anyone else that he’d fallen on hard times, it had been a particularly rough half-decade.

"Yes," the Legion agreed softly. "Brace yourself, Pilot. Counterfire incoming." The Legion twisted back again, its shield raised as it hunkered down to defend against the attack it couldn't possibly outrun.

Blisk grit his teeth, watching the inbound rockets on his HUD, and, knowing at the worst they'd knock the big Titan on its aft, held on for impact.

The light was blinding as the rockets struck the Legion's shield and the impact shook them both, causing Red to stagger back several steps but not topple. Blisk felt a swell of pride as Red held his ground and he'd been about to compliment his partner but as the smoke and vapor began to clear he caught sight of another volley arcing in a dramatic curve from out of their peripheral. The Legion's gunshield flickered and vanished as it lost energy at the exact moment Blisk let out a shout.

"Shit! Look out!" The Legion turned, diving away to try and offer Blisk as much protection as possible when the rockets struck.

Blisk screamed as his world lit up white, his Titan tumbling as the rockets ate through its remaining armor and began to tear through metal. The left wall of the cockpit blew in and he was sprayed with fire and shrapnel. As the mighty Legion fell, the canopy flew open, the Titan using its last functions to pull him clear of its crumpled chassis and toss him to safety.

Blisk landed hard with a bounce, yelping in pain and rolling several times before slowing to a stop. He had a brief moment to tilt his head back, gazing in horror at his Titan from where he lay in the mud as it sagged and its biolights went dark. The sudden snapping sensation in his mind as his Neural Link was severed made his head swim and his vision turn blotchy, and with a soft moan, he let himself slip into unconsciousness.

* * *

 

Blisk opened his eyes with a groan, blinking hard to try and focus his blurred vision. The battlefield had gone deathly quiet in the sort of post-apocalypse type of hush that bespoke total annihilation. The scenery finally solidified out of dark and bright blurs into the image of his Legion, lifeless and no more than a burnt out heap of metal. It had stopped burning, at least. He shifted and swore sharply. Everything hurt thanks to burns from the explosion and his hard collision with the earth where he lay, but a particularly sharp pain lanced up from his left thigh just above his knee on the outside. Blisk was tough, but the pain was harsh enough to make his head swim and his stomach lurch. Overhead, a Militia transport flew over and, hissing, Blisk grit his teeth began the slow, agonizing crawl back to the corpse of his Titan for the relative cover it offered.

It took far too long: he couldn't put any weight on his leg at all, and though he didn't dare look just yet, he could feel an ominously large sticky patch of wetness soaking into his flight suit from mid-thigh to well down his shin. That his leg was still there at all was his only reassurance.

At last, he was able to scoot in close under the shadow of the Titan's body, leaning back against it and, taking a few deep breaths to soothe the ringing in his ears and the roiling of his stomach, he finally had a look at his leg.

"...Fuck."

A jagged chunk of shrapnel the size of his palm was buried deep into his thigh, having sawed clean through his flesh and appeared to have only stopped when it hit bone. It was seeping a steady stream of blood which had soaked his flight suit completely, flowing freely over the sodden fabric to run down either side and into the soil. He watched himself bleed in morbid fascination for a moment and then, letting out a shaky breath, fished out his comm.

"Need evac," he growled, starting with the IMC's open channel. Several long seconds passed, but no response came. Frowning, he tried the backup frequency. "Blisk. Requesting evac." Nothing. "Anyone copy?" Silence. He tried medical directly, but the signal wouldn't even connect. Command wasn't picking up, and he was beginning to suspect the IMC had already retreated. In a sullen act of desperation, he even attempted his retainer. Again no answer, but he was able to leave a message. "Carr, yeh sonnofa bitch!” His voice was starting to slur slightly, his accent thick with stress and the woozy, detached feeling of shock. “Answ’r mah gawddamn call!" He coughed, and for a moment he had to let his head drop back against the armored surface supporting him as his eyesight fuzzed briefly. With no small struggle, he pulled himself back together to keep trying.

He stared down at the gently glowing screen of his comm, desperately fighting off the looming sense of resignation as it began to dawn on him he was on his own. He’d been this alone before. He’d been hurt worse - _far_ worse- and survived. Just...not at the same time. He started flipping through contacts, trying to jog his increasingly fuzzy brain of anyone else he could reach out to. Most of the names on the list were either dead or wanted him dead. His gaze locked on one particular name, the letters blurred at the edges but too familiar to mistake. He knew calling either of his estranged daughters would likely be futile, but at this rate, he would bleed out and die for sure if he did nothing. Even if they simply turned him in, the Militia was likely to treat his injuries and he’d have time to devise an escape...

He only had the number for one of them, and that was only because he’d managed to steal the information thanks to Red’s self-curated hacking talents. He’d kept the number, but hadn’t reached out in nearly a decade. She was too fierce, too angry - too much like him- and their last call had not gone well to the extreme. He hoped that maybe, with a little experience and maturity under her belt, she’d spare him a scrap of compassion, undeserved though he knew it would be. Maybe they knew who it was who anonymously sent them flowers every year on their birthday. Maybe one of them knew that, even though they rightfully hated him, he cared anyway. His leg started to throb, his hands and feet feeling cold. It was worth a shot, he supposed.

The call rang and rang, and just when he'd resigned himself that she knew better than to pick up, it connected. The young woman spoke immediately, not giving him a chance to say anything.

" _Go rot already, Asshole!_ "

And with that, the call was ended. By the time Blisk could attempt a redial, he'd been blocked. He sighed, sagging.

"Sure thing, kiddo," he whispered, not surprised but heartbroken nonetheless, and now utterly, hopelessly defeated.  
Just over the rise, he could see that same transport circle back and touch down, not two kilometers away. His hands shook as he drew his weapon, reloading and arming it. He didn't think he'd survive, but he took some solace in the thought that maybe when the Reaper came for him, he could take the bastard with him.

* * *

 

The scenery was desolate. The smells of scorched earth, smoke, and blood filled the air, choking the two lone Militia Pilots gingerly picking their way through the bodies and the wreckage. Jack Cooper stopped, slouching tiredly as he looked all around them at what he was realizing was an entirely lost cause. This...hadn’t been what he’d signed up for.

"Remind me to send Sarah flowers for this one," Jack mumbled, glancing around miserably.  
  


The battlefield was an absolute fucking mess, but most of the bodies bore the IMC's colors. Actually, nearly all of them did. The Militia didn't enjoy many sweeping victories but this had been one of them. Jack and his cohort had been coerced into volunteering to go back out in search of survivors while the Militia proper regrouped. They did this often, letting their friends rest while they worked on, sparing young soldiers the risk of seeing their fallen friends and loved ones, but this time it was a particularly gruesome job.

"Sarcasm?" His companion chortled.

"Sarcasm," Jack confirmed dryly. "Maybe we should retire from the war completely and open a flower shop or something," he mused to himself. The little micro-home he kept on the outskirts of Harmony’s capital city, Liberty, had an enormous garden and wildflowers growing into the plains beyond as far as the eye could see. It was a lonesome, quiet life but he missed it terribly at times like this. "I keep wondering why I do this if I hate it so much. I think I might have a screw loose." After Typhon, he’d officially retired his service to the Militia, but still fought on its behalf, thanks to a particularly sweet deal with _General_ Sarah Briggs that allowed him to pick and choose contract jobs as he wished. He rarely turned down her requests.

The other man chuckled warmly, his voice a rich baritone that, especially in laughter, always made Jack smile.

"Well it's for a greater purpose, right? And I'd be more concerned about the tightness of your screws if you _liked it_." He paused. "A flower shop would be nice. You'd get bored."

It was true.

Jack stepped over the corpse of an enemy pilot and paused, stooping to wiggle a particularly nice rifle from the dead man's grip. He looked it over and slung it over his shoulder with a little nod to himself.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Surely there's a happy medium though?" He plodded on, grimacing to himself when he unexpectedly slipped in mud. It was a dry, sunny day. Whatever made the earth wet enough to be muddy was not rain.

"Contract work when and where we agree to isn't already?" There was the hint of a smirk in his companion’s low tones. “Or did you mean the flowers? Perhaps we should find some way to incorporate traps into bouquets. We can start assassinating IMC brass with murderous acts of kindness from the comfort of home.” To the untrained ear, he sounded dead serious.

Jack paused, shooting a dry look back at his friend. He couldn't see any shapes through the tinted visor of the other man’s helmet, but there was a flicker that might have been a wink. That delightfully dark humor still shocked him sometimes.

"Bud, you have one hell of a sense of humor, you know that?" Jack chuckled.

"I have you to thank for-" The rest of his response was cut off by the distinct click of the hammer of a pistol being pulled and a sudden shout.

"Not. Any. Closer!"

Both men spun around, but as the unmistakable voice registered, Jack's knees locked.

"No way!" He hissed, eyes widening as he spotted the prone figure a few yards away.

Kuben Blisk lay sprawled against a fallen Titan, clutching his leg with one hand and shakily aiming a pistol at the pair with the other. Jack might have said more, might have _reacted_ , but his companion had already burst into motion, lunging the short distance between they and the mercenary, and with a swift, fierce kick, sent Blisk's weapon careening out of his grip. Blisk yelped, pulling his hand to his chest and releasing his leg to clutch at it. The newly exposed wound just above his knee oozed freely with dark blood, shrapnel protruding wetly from a jagged gash, and it was painfully clear he wouldn't be going anywhere without treatment. One finger was clearly broken, thanks to the kick he’d just received, crooked and dangling akimbo, and the Apex Predator glared back, his eyes glassy with pain as he yanked the joint back into place with a hiss. His complexion shifted from white to green, to a queasy gray in moments.

"You're not in a position to be issuing demands of any kind," the Pilot rumbled, squaring his shoulders and stance standoffishly as Jack caught up with him.

"How the hell," Jack spoke slowly, head tilted as he gazed down at the fallen merc in wonder, "did you get off of Typhon?"

Blisk shook his injured hand out and, letting it drop to his side, resumed clutching at his leg and said nothing, his icy glower somehow intensifying. Despite being badly injured, cornered, and defenseless, Blisk’s hallmark ferocity hadn’t faded and his lips curled up into a pained snarl. His whole body tensed as if he were preparing for a fight. "Do you remember me?" Jack asked, wary but confident that Blisk wouldn’t be able to do much in his current condition, even if he tried to attack them. "We've met before." Blisk's brow creased, but when Jack pulled his helmet away to expose his face, realization dawned.

He hadn't seen Jack's face that fateful day on Typhon, but he'd seen it a million times since on newsvids and wanted posters, and even on a standing hit order from the IMC itself. He glanced at the other man standing beside Cooper, wondering who he could be, but the other Pilot didn't so much as twitch. Blisk sucked in a long breath, fighting hard not to choke on his considerable pain.

"So ya made it," He croaked. "Was one helluva mess you an' tha' Titan made." For a long moment, Cooper only stared back, stormy eyes dark and serious. "So now what?" Blisk pressed, feigning impatience.

The truth was, he was injured in a way that, without help, he'd eventually die from left as he was. It was only by his considerable force of will that he hadn't yet passed out from blood loss. The crumpled heap behind him that had once been his Titan was nothing now but a burnt out husk. The IMC had long since fled, and in recent years, his outfit had dwindled to a team of one.

There was no help. No one was coming, and he knew it.

Maybe so did Cooper, because he smiled in an unfriendly sort of way.

"Hoping I'll put you out of your misery?"

"Let him bleed," the other man said darkly, and despite himself, Blisk blurted,

"An' who are you?"

He didn't get an answer.

"No," Jack said softly instead, earning himself a sharp glance from his companion. He was still staring intently back at Blisk, his gaze turning distant and thoughtful. The other man drew his sidearm and Jack repeated a little louder, "No." The other kept his gun drawn but stood down with a grumble.

"Jack..."

"If it weren't for him, Harmony would be gone," Jack said quietly. "You know this."

"You don't know that." The Pilot countered, turning away partially to face Jack. "Fine. You want to return the favor? Leave him here. If he lives, whatever. If he doesn't... _good_."

"You know I don't work like that," Jack said, even softer.

"I'm not helping him."

"This isn't like you," Jack sighed. His friend had every right to be angry, every right to want Blisk dead, and so did Jack for that matter, but he just couldn't bring himself to let the man perish. Not like this. He stepped in close to his companion, looking up at the taller figure. "I don't blame you, but we can't..."

Behind them, Blisk kept his eye on the two men as he leaned out, straining for his weapon laying just beyond easy reach, certain they were too busy with each other to notice the slow movement. He may have been a dead man, but maybe he'd rest in peace if he took Cooper with him. It was the closest thing to a second chance he'd ever gotten.

"Leave that-" the unknown Pilot turned on his heel, his sidearm coming up with inhuman speed, and before Blisk had even seen him move, a shot rang and searing pain raced up his arm. He let fly a stilted scream, snatching his hand back and clutching it to his chest once more. "-right where it is," the Pilot finished, stomping over to where Blisk's _Wingman_ lay and snatching it up. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he'd emptied the barrel of its two remaining shots and, giving the well-maintained weapon an appreciative glance, stowed it into a side-pocket. Jack turned quickly to catch the tail end of what had so quickly transpired, his eyes wide and jaw slackened with surprise. Blisk now had his hand up and was staring at his boot laces through the gaping hole blown clean through his hand in unbridled horror, and didn't hear Jack over the shock-static ringing in his ears as the younger man turned on his friend.

"Was that necessary?!"

Blisk's vision swam. He'd toughed his way through of any number of gruesome injuries in his life, but witnessing light pass through a part of his body that should have blocked it out shook him hard, and that, mixed with the pain and the defeat he was already suffering, became too much. As the pair standing over him began to bicker like children, his vision went black at last.  
  


The argument came to an abrupt halt as both men noticed Blisk slump suddenly where he sat, his head lolling, their attention snapping to the movement in unison.

"Oh." Jack sighed, rubbing his face.

"I'm still not sorry," the Pilot said with an annoyed click. He took a long step, making to kick the unconscious merc.

"Hey!" Jack lurched forward, catching his arm, but not before he got his hit in, thumping Blisk hard across his uninjured thigh. It was a petty, entirely non-critical hit, but he'd have a ghastly bruise later. "Will you knock it off?!" Jack snapped, for the first time sounding genuinely angry. "What is with you?!"

"That one's for Tai," his friend grumbled, somehow managing to look peevish even with his face hidden. Jack huffed a sigh.

"Yeah. Okay," He conceded. "No more though. We can't just... we can't just torture someone for no reason, even if he deserves it...especially when they’re completely helpless." A grumble. "I'm not stooping to his level and I'm not letting you do it either." Jack insisted, moving as he spoke to fish a compact medkit out of a pouch at his hip. "Let me just..." Jack was muttering to himself now, pulling out an assortment of supplies. "We can get the holes patched and leave him here. That's fair, right?" He only got a low growl as a reply, and he really couldn't begrudge the response.

" _Coop!_ " His comm came alive suddenly, and the pair both recognized General Brigg's voice over their shared channel. " _Time to move, if you haven't found anyone. We've got an airstrike coming in. Two minutes."_

The pair exchanged a look.

"Shit," Jack said.

"Oh well!" Said his companion, earning himself a sour look.

"No, we haven't found anyone," Jack replied after a beat, glancing back to where their shuttle rested a couple of kilometers or so away. "We're retreating now. See you back at home."

" _Fly safe, Coop. Briggs out._ "

The other Pilot had made to turn back to their shuttle but paused when he realized that Jack was still hovering over the prone man at his feet.

“Jack, we need to go," He reminded, not quite urgently.

"Come here and help me move him, then," Jack said.

"You're kidding." His tone was all deadpan horror, his dry humor nowhere in sight.

"No. I'm not letting a defenseless man get bombed. Get over here and help me," Jack insisted, already crouching and hauling one of Blisk's barrel-like arms over his shoulder. He could lift the massive man, but it wasn't going to be pretty, and he certainly wasn't going to get very far very quickly with such a burden.

The other man let out a frustrated groan and hurried to relieve Jack, effortlessly hoisting Blisk up and over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. "You know what I think of this, Jack," he said somewhat darkly and Jack nodded solemnly.

"I know. Thank you."

  
  
  


 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blisk is the kind of guy that manages to avoid missing getting hit by a car only to be run over by a bus from the other direction. He's used to it, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad-Guy Angst is Best Angst

\--2--

 

They made a hasty retreat back to their ship, Jack leading the way as his companion grudgingly hauled the unconscious mercenary along.  It was a testimony to his condition that Blisk didn't once so much as groan, let alone stir at all, even as he was deposited none-too-gently onto the rigid gurney in the ships med-bay with an echoing thud. 

"Damn he's out cold," Jack observed, surprised. Despite this, he moved quickly, not willing to risk waiting to handcuff Blisk to the bed frame by both wrists.  Compassionate though he was, he wasn't stupid, either. At his side, his friend was stooped in close, examining the oozing injury to Blisk's thigh. He poked at the wound with a gloved finger, picking away some of the tattered fabric and debris and then with a sound like a sigh, pulled his glove from his hand for better dexterity. 

At a glance, his hand could have passed as entirely human; long nimble fingers sported joints and creases, and neat, acrylic nails. Only a faint seam at his wrist and a vaguely translucent quality to the skin might have given away its synthetic nature.  Unbothered by the mess, he dug his fingers into the gash and withdrew another finger-sized chunk of shrapnel, causing fresh blood to gush. 

Jack, who'd been somewhat morbidly staring at the semi-cauterized hole through Blisk's palm, glanced over sharply. The other man let out a soft oath of alarm and quickly hauled up a triage kit from under the gurney and slapped it down between Blisk's ankles, digging through it with swift, steady movements.   

"Get that armor off so we can get to this,"  he murmured. Despite his misgivings, he was on a mission now and took treating Blisk's injury just as seriously as if it were Jack. The ship shook, equipment on the walls around them rattling as outside, the first line of bombs was dropped not far away. Unconcerned, and trusting the Militia to stay clear of their familiar and friendly vessel, the pair stayed focused on their efforts. They worked silently in sync, quickly divesting Blisk of his gear, piling armor, several knives, and a dark and unresponsive comm into a heap, his torn and bloody fatigues following a moment later. 

    "Oh damn," Jack breathed. 

    Judging by the scars- some old, some new - littering Blisk's legs, this was not the first time he'd sustained a similar injury.  There were a few deep gashes, and several definite bullet wounds, some pale and glossy and barely visible, others fresh and rough.  

    “A fair few of these look like they were field treated," the other man commented, even as he set to meticulously cleaning the wound, then slapping a wound sealant and bandages over it. "None of these would have been too severe for accelerated healing if it had been available," he said.  It was all too clear that the man had led a hard, violent life, and Jack suspected that the broad array of scars would only continue up his entire body if they removed his shirt, and even beneath the black boxer briefs that still allowed their unconscious charge some modesty. 

"Huh," Jack murmured. "Some of these look really old, too.  Must be older than he looks." He'd opened one handcuff and turned Blisk's twice-injured hand over to examine it as his partner worked, his lip curled and his teeth barred in sympathy. The broken finger had been reset but was by now swollen and purple, and the hole in his palm was charred and bloody.  He could see ragged tendons and bits of bone floating in the coagulated mess, fresh blood oozing as Blisk’s fingers trembled from pain even in unconsciousness. "This is going to need the Biogel," he added, and his companion reached back into the kit, extracting a small jar and slapping it into Jack's waiting hand.     

"Or he got started at a very young age," the other mused, regarding Blisk’s scars still.

"Probably that," Jack agreed, scooping a big fingerful of viscous, oddly metallic slime out of the jar and plopping it with a grimace into the hole in Blisk's hand.  The mercenary's fingers twitched and a high, pained whine escaped the big man. Jack jumped, glancing over at Blisk's face, which was now scrunched up slightly, but after a hard stare, Jack concluded he was still unconscious and hurried to seal and bandage Blisk's hand.  By the time he'd sealed both sides with clear film and begun unwinding gauze, the wound was already beginning to show the effects of the hard-working nanites the gel contained, newly forming flesh and tendons glistening a healthy pink where they'd been charred and bloody moments before as they began to do their miraculous work. Jack bandaged Blisk's hand into a great mitt, not just covering the wound but securing his fingers curled in but away from his palm to protect him from himself, and quickly cuffed his wrist back to the gurney.  

"He doesn't deserve this," his companion said, done with his own chore and picking up the jar and replacing the lid almost reverently. It was a precious commodity that many weren't even aware of the existence of, and something Jack came by from a mix of good fortune and gaining the favor of the right people. It was not Militia standard-issue nor IMC for that matter. Jack shrugged.

"He probably didn't deserve getting a hole blown through his hand, either," he said, fixing his friend a stern look for his use of unnecessary force with the merc.  "His leg can heal the old-fashioned way," he added. "Looks like he's used to it anyway." 

He turned away, washing up and throwing a blanket over the prone figure to cover his legs up to his chest, and headed out of the little medical room.  

"I'm going to get us airborne before we get in the Militia's way," he said, pausing to look back at his friend, and their unconscious enemy.  "I know you want to but please don't kill or further maim him, alright?"   

The man issued a resigned, bitter sigh.

"Fine. You'd just waste more Biogel anyway."

Jack smiled, sweet and honest, albeit a little tired.

"I would."

"You owe me," he pressed, and Jack's smile grew all the brighter, the affection clear and unguarded.

"I do." 

* * *

 

 _He stared down into the little girl’s clear blue eyes, streaked with tears and flashing in rage.  Fourteen tender years, and already ferocious. Fearless. Beautiful. So, so much like her mother. He’d had no idea, then, how to tell them all what they meant to him. He’d, stupidly, had no idea what he’d done wrong as he stood frozen, listening to this_ **_child_ ** _spew vile oaths and accusations.  She called him a murderer and a villain. She laid direct responsibility for her mother’s life on him, and at that moment he finally realized she was absolutely right. He stood rooted, enduring it all, each word another stab wound, another penance, and gathered up the pain and the grief and held it close as he silently wept in shame._

_His children called him a monster._

_He was a monster._

 

He jolted awake, sucking in a long, shuddering gasp as the last fat tears gushed from his stinging eyes, and grimaced. The pain in his heart, mind, and body was so great and so varied it took him several long minutes to unpack the dream as the memory it was. 

He hated when this happened. 

Blisk was accustomed to waking up in pain. Agony, even. How many times in his life, had he narrowly escaped a fatal blow, only to limp home with a trail of blood behind him, and collapse into bed hoping that he didn't bleed out before he could help himself? How many times had he woken to Red fumbling to try and help him, or flee a battle with him? How many more, did the demons he harbored wake him with a different sort of pain?

 No, the pain was normal. Not remembering how or when he got to safety was normal.  Waking up with his face aching and streaked in tears, his chest clenched tight as he recovered from haunting, horrible nightmares that were the price of doing horrible, awful things, was normal.

 

Not recognizing his surroundings, however, was not. 

 

Through the disorientating haze of pain and freshly unearthed memories he'd preferred had stayed buried, it took him far too long to realize he didn't know where he was. As the hitching and heaving of his chest slowed, and the knot in his throat began to clear, however, a hard shot of panic struck him square in the gut, yanking out a sharp gasp of alarm as he sat up abruptly. Or attempted to. His shoulders barely left the bed when he realized with a sharp jerk that his wrists were pinned beside his hips, the thick bands of handcuffs biting into the back of his hands as he tried to sit up. He yelped and collapsed back with a groan as his right hand practically combusted with pain, making his fingers throb and his ears ring in a way that nothing before ever had.  It was this searing jolt of new agony that jostled his memory of what had happened prior to losing consciousness and, gasping as the pain subsided to a low throb once more, he swore softly to himself, horrified.

"Easy there."

The voice was low and calm, and vaguely familiar, and also far too close for comfort. Blisk jerked again, startled, and hissed as a fresh wash of burning traveled up his arm all the way into his shoulder, making him clutch his uninjured hand into a tight, trembling fist.  His thigh throbbed and stung as well but it was so far beneath what he now remembered was a shot through his hand, that he hardly noticed it. Fighting back a wave of nausea, he swung his head to the side to follow the voice with a snarl, ice-blue eyes widening as his gaze fell on the same unknown Pilot who'd accompanied Cooper.  

The other man still had all of his gear on, helmet included and stood propped back with his shoulder against the door frame and his arms crossed casually over his chest, his head tilted slightly to one side as he contemplated the grotesque cocktail of fear and anger that twisted Blisk's face. It was terribly clear to the mercenary that he'd been watching him the entire time.  He grit his teeth, knowing he'd had an ugly come-apart in the space between consciousness and dreaming, and was loathe to acknowledge that anyone, especially an enemy, had witnessed it. Gaps in the armor were bad for business, and yet the pieces seemed to be tumbling away wholesale today. Blisk fought hard to school his face into neutrality as he battled back the fear and pain of the present and past alike as he faced the stranger watching him.  From their relaxed posture, he suspected he wasn’t as successful as he intended. 

 

For the longest time, the Pilot simply stared back at him, impassive and unmoving.  Blisk could all-too-easily imagine the smug little smirk the other man must be wearing.

"Nothing to say?" The Pilot asked, at last, his tone velvety and yes, tremendously smug. Blisk took another moment to gather up some of that hard-shelled ferocity he was so notorious for before he replied with a demand.

 "Who th' hell are ya?" Blisk growled.  "Take that damn helmet off and gloat to mah face!" It might have come across as far more threatening if Blisk didn’t unthinkingly try to sit up again, the swift motion combined with the sudden stop as his pinned arms made for another hard jolt that made his head swim, a shrill yelp escaping him as he flopped back, panting. The Pilot chuckled, unimpressed. 

"This is a good look for you, Blisk." He straightened up finally, pushing away from the doorway to mosey over to Blisk's bedside. The lens of the MCOR helmet glinted weirdly as he stared down at Blisk, who fell abruptly silent.  He was so tense his hands shook, making the cuffs rattle slightly. His knees rose, his toes digging into the bedding as his body coiled defensively. The Pilot's head cocked slightly again, and he gave Blisk a deliberate look-over.  "You can relax," he announced after a moment. "Jack's requested I do you no further harm, and so I won't." 

Blisk didn't relax.

"You wanted to see my face?" He went on, his tone still level and almost gentle, as if he were consoling a child or calm an unruly pet.  Blisk scowled and tensed further, ever ready for a fight, as the Pilot raised both hands, but all he did was lay them over his own helmet, pushing it up and away.

Blisk could see almost immediately that something wasn’t right, but as the rectangular, robotic head was revealed, he let out a shout of surprise, recoiling. Every other aspect of this person was convincingly human enough that it hadn’t even occurred to Blisk that he could possibly be anything different.

 "I don't have a face," the Pilot went on, his fission-green optic flickering as he spoke, "So you'll have to deal with this instead." He sounded terribly pleased with the startle he’d given the merc, but Blisk was too thrown to notice. 

"A Sim?!" Blisk hissed, just as Cooper appeared in the doorway, summoned by Blisk's shout.

"Hey, whats- Oh."  Cooper hung back, looking between the Apex Predator, appearing for all the world like a cornered animal, and his friend.

"No, not a Sim," the Pilot answered, and for a moment the ugly fear fizzled out of Blisk's countenance to make room for confusion.  His eyes cut over to Cooper as he approached, his brow knitting downward dramatically as he tried to puzzle it out. 

"We've met before," the Not-A-Sim hinted, his tone darkening as he threw a glance at the other Pilot.  Blisk's lips pressed into a tight line as he thought, his gaze sharpening keenly as he rapidly sorted it through the scant few facts he’d been provided, and a few more he could extrapolate from context.

"You're that Vanguard," Blisk said slowly, at last, his tone quietly impressed as he looked the figure over.  For a moment he forgot that he was badly injured, bound and cornered by the enemy as he took in the miracle of technology standing before him.  "From Typhon." He remembered the voice. At the bot's side, Jack smiled in a strange, winsome sort of way that made Blisk feel vaguely uncomfortable.

“Yes I am," the Not-A-Sim said.  "You’re a clever man, Blisk,” he added, sounding genuinely surprised he’d put it together so quickly.  “My designation is BT-7274,” He went on, his voice loaded with an underlying threat. “BT for short...though I’m not certain our acquaintance leaves room for such informalities yet.” Blisk sagged into the thin mattress beneath him as his brief wonderment gave way to deep worry. Cooper and the Vanguard had bested him before, and now they had the clear upper hand and it was dawning on him just how much trouble he was really in. His heart thumped up in his chest and several shades of color drained from his face as the gravity of his situation sank in fully. 

“So,” he began, not one to face his problems with his head in the sand, “What does this mean fer me?” 

“Well if it were up to me, you’d be right where we found you, except in many, many pieces since the Militia bombed that area into oblivion,” the Vanguard- BT- said wryly.  In a better situation, Blisk might have laughed at the morbid imagery. “Lucky for you, sweet Jack here is all too compassionate, and decided that the best thing to do, despite all you’ve done, was to rescue you and treat your wounds.” Blisk frowned, mostly confused but no less concerned as he watched the Titan sidle up against the other Pilot and drape an arm around him affectionately. 

“Ta what… turn me in? Off me on yer own terms?” 

“Depends,” BT replied darkly.

“We haven’t decided yet,” Cooper broke in finally.  He had his eyes pinned on Blisk, clearly searching for whatever it was that would sway his decision.  “My intention is to repay you for letting us go on Typhon: Patch you up and deliver you somewhere where you can figure out the rest on your own, but I need to know you’re going to allow us to do that for you.” He spoke softly, his entire countenance easy going and relaxed.  He knew perfectly well he was far safer at this moment than Blisk was. Blisk listened intently, more than willing to make a deal if he could, and tried to relax into a more passive posture. He hoped that if he could cooperate, if he could convince them he wasn’t a threat, that he might get out of this alive. 

BT knew this too.

“Personally, I rather hope you try something so I have an excuse to tear you in half.” The Titan’s tone of voice was particularly unfriendly, and Blisk had a brief flash of memory: an enormous hand brushing his shoulder as he dove for safety, millimeters from mashing him into hamburger. 

“Ah ain’t _stupid_ ,” Blisk spat in reply, bristling at the threat and earning himself a bitter laugh from BT.

“Hey,” Cooper murmured in warning.  Blisk quelled and BT backed down, stepping away and assuming a passive stance near the doorway once more.

“Ah ain’t gonna try anythin’,” Blisk said firmly, forcing calm into his voice. “Even if Ah wasn’t hurt somethin’ bad an’ outnumbered, yer offer’s mighty generous an Ah’m not gonna risk jeopardizing that.” He blew out a hard, shaking breath, revealing a glimpse of just how distressed he really was. “Same ’s you, won’t do anythin’ ‘cept defend myself if ya make me.”

“Biometrics check out,” BT rumbled. “He’s honest.” Blisk's scowl deepened a fraction as he struggled to get a read on the Titan. He suspected that BT was sending mixed signals intentionally, but that didn’t make him any less baffled as he tried to sort out which end of the spectrum was the more genuine. He was actively puzzling this out when Cooper’s serious expression broke into a sunny grin, further vexing the mercenary.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he said, sounding truly delighted.  Behind him, BT chuckled softly and shook his head, a smile evident in his rapidly softening posture. Blisk was reeling from the seemingly unwarranted change of attitude and barely heard Cooper as he went on, tittering in friendly sympathy.  “Let’s get these cuffs off. I bet you’d like to sit up, and it can’t feel good rubbing on your hand like that…” 

Just like that, his restraints were removed and tossed aside.  

For a moment, Blisk simply stayed laid out where he was, watching the other Pilot with wide, puzzled eyes. At the doorway, BT slowly drew his sidearm warily.  Somehow, seeing BT lurking in the background with his weapon drawn was almost reassuring. That, at least, was what he considered a normal and perfectly rational response and one that Blisk was more used to.  At length, he sat up slowly with a soft groan.

“Ah don’ deserve this,” he muttered, feeling confused and almost guilty for accepting the other man’s generosity. He cradled his injured hand in his lap, examining the robust wrappings and rubbing his wrist sympathetically. One of them had clearly taken great care not to exacerbate the injury.  

It blew his mind.  

He didn’t understand at all why anyone, especially these two, would offer him any sort of compassion.

“Maybe not,” Cooper agreed softly. “But I’ve chosen the high road.” He was watching Blisk closely. “I’m curious,” he admitted a moment later.  “We’re in the actual middle of nowhere right now. It’ll take at least a few days to get anywhere. We’ll have plenty of time to see your true nature in that time.”

“You think I’m redeemable?” Blisk rumbled, giving Cooper a flat look. “Lemme save ya th’ trouble an’ tell ya: Ah _ain’t._   Ah kin behave myself jus’ fine, but you’re betta’ off dumpin’ me off at the first place you can.” For a long time, the younger man simply stared back at him, his expression passive but guarded as he pondered Blisk’s blunt rebuttal of his own character.

“How’s your leg?” He asked, instead of replying.

“Hurts,” Blisk admitted curtly. He turned his gaze back toward his knees, unable to face Cooper's level, passive stare.  "Everythin' hurts," he added a moment later. The punctured leg and bullet hole were only the ugly, rotten cherries on top of a whole shit sundae of bumps and grazes, not to mention the deep, nauseating ache of a shattered Neural Link. Poking out from the bandaging around his mutilated hand, he could see his broken finger had turned an ugly purple, the appendage having swollen up until it was double-thick and glossy.  He barely felt it as the throb blurred in with the rest. He watched warily out of the corner of his eye as Cooper turned to look back at his Titan, something soundlessly passing between the pair.

"We have pain aides," BT spoke up, the rich baritone of his voice now soft without a threat lurking in every word.  "We only dressed your major injuries, but we have everything from basic NSAIDs to the _good_ stuff if you want it."

Blisk watched as Cooper lifted the triage kit back up to balance it beside his knee on the gurney, opening it up and looking back at him expectantly.

"Jus' aspirin," Blisk murmured.  "You'll understand if Ah'd trade some pain ta keep my wits, yeah?"

Jack chuffed out a soft laugh, briefly imagining Blisk high on opiates and desperately trying to contain his smirk for it. Behind him, BT let out the faintest electronic chirp of amusement as he too got the same picture.

"Yeah, I get ya," Cooper said. He started to hand Blisk a bottle of pills but then his eyes cut to Blisk's hand, wrapped to a club in gauze.  He grimaced and, withdrawing it, popped the cap for him first. Blisk rolled his eyes.

"Could'a gotten it," he muttered, his tone mildly disgruntled. He flinched when BT tossed a bottle of water to Jack, the other Pilot turning quickly to catch it.  Jack caught the bottle easily but didn't fail to catch Blisk's reaction at the sudden movement, either. He opened this for Blisk as well, eyeing him thoughtfully as he handed it over.

"I don't doubt that," Cooper said, "but for now, you don't have to."

Blisk swallowed his pills with a sigh and simply gave him a shallow nod.

"Yeah, all right,"  he conceded. He did, however, manage to cap both bottles one-handed, handing the pills back and casting about briefly for a place for the water bottle before wedging it between the gurney frame and mattress with a shrug to himself. With a groan, he sank back, sliding back into a prone position.  He kept his eyes on Cooper, who still stood over him, watching. Blisk's stare gradually turned flat and expectant as the moment stretched uncomfortably and Cooper finally grimaced and turned away slightly.

 "It'll be a few hours before you need to bother checking those wounds, Jack," BT supplied from the doorway. Cooper nodded and stepped back.

"Get some rest," he suggested, turning for the door. Blisk was already tugging fussily at the blanket he'd been supplied and nodded again between a cringe and a grimace as he jarred one of his injuries. As they were leaving, however, he spoke up one last time.

"Hey... Thanks." His voice was clear and confident but his face was a tangled mess of misery and confusion. Cooper’s smile in reply looked a little sad.

* * *

 

 "I don't think that guy's received a single act of kindness in a very long time," Jack said, not long after as he and BT returned to the cockpit, leaving Blisk alone in the medical bay to rest.  Jack would normally have never left such a dangerous person to his own devices but he'd pretty quickly come to the conclusion that he was, at least for the moment, no threat to them. 

 "You say that as if that's a bad thing," BT said tartly. Jack cringed.  "But yes, I concur. Even a cursory analysis indicates resultant deep psychological trauma." Jack was nodding in agreement, but looked over sharply when BT added, "He was weeping in his sleep when he woke up." 

"Oh.  I do that," Jack said softly.

"You do."

"Only when I dream about Typhon..." 

"You cope with the trauma well, Jack, but it only makes sense that that pain needs an outlet _somehow_ even if it's outside your normal conscious operations.  I have no doubt we could infer the same conclusion with Blisk," BT said. Jack fell silent and thoughtful, his gaze cast out into the depths of space. The ship drifted, well away from any planet or known system while they recharged for another jump.  There was nothing to see out there except stars, stretching on for eternity into the blackness. Jack suddenly felt insurmountably lonely. BT twitched.

"Jack, do not let your gentle nature allow you to forget what a dangerous person we have taken into our custody," he said gently.  "I recognize that right now you are seeing only his pain, and are sympathizing accordingly, but that man has the blood of entire cities on his hands.  Tai's blood. Very nearly yours as well." Jack's silence turned broody, and BT's tone softened further. "I am not asking that you change your current course of action. You are a good man, who does good for others whether they deserve it or not, and to me, there is no greater trait than compassion. I simply ask that you remain cautious and aware as you do so." 

Jack wrenched his increasingly distant gaze from the starfield to his friend and gave BT a tired, loving smile. 

"You're right, BT," he sighed, his smile softening as BT stood and closed the short gap between them in order to gather Jack up into a gentle hug. "As always."

BT chuckled, giving Jack a fond squeeze and a nuzzle.

"Of course I am. I would keep my mouth shut, otherwise." Jack laughed and stretched up, still in the circle of BT's embrace, to give the Titan a kiss just below his optic lens. 

"So what now?" Jack posed, not moving from his comfortable position nestled against BT's chest. "How do we want to do this?"

"I say roll him into the loading bay while he's sleeping and dump him into space," BT drawled.  "We can replace the bed." 

"BT!" Jack feigned outrage, smiling around an aghast gape.  "You're terrible!"

"You knew better than to ask," BT chuckled, nuzzling Jack again in apology. Jack snorted softly, shaking his head.  "I suppose," BT went on, sobering. "We wait for now. It'll be a few more hours before we can make the next jump anyway.   There's no hurt in asking where he'd go, once he's rested. Either his destination will be within the realm of your generosity or it won't." He didn't like it, but despite the dark jokes, the Titan was perfectly capable of remaining objective about their course of action.

"Yeah, that's about how I was thinking too," Jack agreed, following easily as BT sat back, pulling him along into his lap.  The pair fell quiet together in comfortable silence, enjoying their closeness in the privacy of deep space.

"It's so strange," Jack broke the silence at last.  "To just relax like this, with someone who used to scare the shit out of me just forty feet down the hall. Am I crazy? For bringing him here, BT?"

 "Undeniably," BT teased, rumbling contentedly as Jack managed to somehow scoot in even closer against his synthetic body. "But I'll admit I'm becoming increasingly curious to see what becomes of it." 

Jack sat up a little, twisting around to look right into BT's optic. 

"You too?"

"I have a hunch, yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah yeah, we all knew it was BT. It's ME! Of COURSE it was BT. X)  
> The only guy that was clueless was poor Blisk. 
> 
> There's a lot of kind of peripheral stuff that's coming into this story that technically belongs to Kieran. When you write together so much with someone, ideas, headcanons, and lore get smushed together into some alternate truth of cannon. I think I've drawn on a lot of his ideas on accident...but have done my damnedest to explicitly seek (and receive) permission for everything, and will continue to do so, and will apply credit where due. (This is a particularly tender topic for me since I not long ago had the dubious honor of my fics getting pretty blatantly plagiarized.) This chapter features his Biogel (although I think I've coined the lore of how it works??) and BT's use of disguising himself as a Pilot...as well as the concept of using a human-replica frame.  
> Kieran did NOT however, beta this (or the previous) chapter for me because I'm trying super hard to do a better/tidier/more professional job of writing on my own and its a lot easier to stay motivated to do that when I live in total fear of publically making an ass out of myself. So if it SUCKS...thats why XD
> 
> PS: FOR THE LOVE OF FLUFF, PLEASE DO NOT ASK ME WHEN I AM GOING TO UPDATE IMAGINE A SAFE PLACE I AM /WORKING/ ON IT AND IT IS /HARD/ I'M SORRY.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't feel bad for him yet, guys. I'm just getting started.

\--3--

 

 He was genuinely surprised he'd slept at all.  At the same time, he was painfully aware that the scant couple of hours, by the little chronometer on the wall, were far too few all the same.  He was dog tired. The adrenaline of battle, his injuries and the alarm of ending up in the dubious care of his enemies had all worn away, leaving Blisk with barely the will to even move.  For several long minutes, in fact, he didn't move except to tilt his head as he examined his surroundings. He listened, straining, searching for any sound of something amiss beyond the steady hum of the little ship's engines.  His eyes cast around to every corner and crevice in search of threats, but the room was small and, aside from the basic medical accouterments a ship of this size would typically have, nearly empty. In short order, he was able to discern that, surprisingly, he was safe.  For now. He sighed, letting his head drop back and closing his eyes while he began to sort out his predicament. 

 His leg throbbed.  The aspirin had barely done a thing to assuage the pain, but this didn't surprise him.  He accepted it, grudgingly, resigned to the fact that it would probably hurt like hell for a long time while it healed...if it ever did stop hurting completely.  Oh, he could walk if he needed to, he was sure, but he wouldn't like it, and he sure as hell wasn't getting anywhere quickly. He desperately hoped that Cooper and his Titan were genuine.  If they decided to turn on him, he would be hard-pressed to adequately defend himself. 

His hand, weirdly enough, had stopped stinging and started to itch something awful.  He battled with the idea of removing the bandages and examining it - maybe he could scratch somewhere near the center of the itch and get a little relief? -but eventually concluded he didn't want to see it yet, even if the itch was an infection like he feared. 

He finally sat up, moaning softly.  He thought his back might have been burned, and there were definitely bruises, the aches bearable but persistent.  

He sat a while longer, carefully considering his next course of action. The need to piss was beginning to press urgent, and he certainly wasn’t going to just let go, nor was he going to summon Cooper or the Vanguard for assistance. If he was on the ship he’d seen fly over back on the battlefield, he knew the type, and the layout, and was confident of the location of the lav. All he had to do was get there. 

Slowly, his teeth grit and his good hand clenched, he turned in his seat and oh-so-carefully eased his legs off the gurney. Cradling his injured hand against his chest to keep from trying to put his weight on it, he slowly levered his weight down with the other arm, stretching out with his good leg until his bare foot connected with the cold metal floor. Freezing cold, in fact, and Blisk hissed in discomfort. He stood with his weight halfway down, waiting for the chill to turn the stinging in the sole of his foot into brittle numbness and then, carefully, oh so carefully, eased his other leg down. 

White-hot pain lanced up his thigh, and Blisk had to swallow a cry of pain, cringing dramatically instead. He breathed hard through his nose and clenched teeth, fighting back the urge to give up, to cry out, or maybe even throw up as his whole leg seemed to throb, and counted down from one hundred.  Slowly, the worst of the sting fizzled into a bone-deep ache as the endorphins kicked in and his brain disengaged from his body somewhat, and Blisk took a trembling step forward, and then another.   
It was slow progress, but he picked his way across the tiny room, out the door, and into the hallway.  His chest was heaving by the time he made it to the lav, and he considered emptying his stomach before his bladder, his ears ringing again and his stomach lurching with every step.  He held it together, though, and was back in the hallway before his self-assigned rescuers found him.

“Oh, whoa whoa whoa ...!” Cooper sounded alarmed, but not in the frightened sort of way Blisk would have preferred. He fought hard not to flinch as the younger man hurried his direction, half-trotting down the narrow hallway with his Titan-disguised-as-a-man following close behind. Blisk stopped, swaying as he settled his weight on his strong leg, breathing deeply through his nose to try and hide his pain. “Oh, hey... you...you didn’t have to… we would have helped!” Cooper seemed to be genuinely distraught.

“Had ta piss,” Blisk growled defensively, wobbling a step backward as the other Pilot got too close.   
“You’re bleeding,” the Vanguard- BT- drawled.  Blisk blinked and glanced down at his leg. A thick stripe of blood had escaped the bandaging and ran almost all the way down to his ankle.

“Aww, shit,” he muttered, more annoyed than concerned. 

“Perhaps,” BT went on softly, addressing his Pilot, “We should use the Biogel after all, if he’s going to simply blow out my suturing.” Cooper nodded.

“Th’ wha?” Blisk couldn’t help but ask, having never heard of such a thing.

“Let’s get you sat back down,” Cooper said, opening his arms as if to herd Blisk back into the infirmary. The big merc huffed and, extra adamant to ignore his pain now that he had an audience, stomp-shuffled his way back to the gurney.  He sat with a gasp, instantly finding some relief once he had his weight off his leg, and wiped the blood away carelessly with his hand, scowling.

“Where th’ hell are my pants, anyway?” He grumbled. He had a horrible hunch they’d been destroyed.

“In the pressure cleaner,” BT answered.  “They’re pretty torn up but it’s unlikely you’ll fit into anything we could loan you so they’ll have to do.” Blisk sagged a little, pleasantly surprised.  “In fact,” the Titan went on, “give me your shirt and I’ll get that as well. It can’t be nice wearing something that filthy.” 

It was true. The fabric clung heavy, caked in blood, mud, and sweat, but Blisk waved him off.

“Nuh, it’s fine.”  The bot somehow managed to give him a bland look even without a face.  He had his body language down to an art. Blisk scowled, puffing up defensively. “Look, Ah’m a private guy, with personal issues I’d rather keep that way, awright?” 

“You got a third nipple or something? It’s unsanitary, hand it over,” BT drawled, unimpressed.

“Ah do not!” Blisk snapped, genuinely offended at the jibe.  The Titan only replied with a low rumble of laughter.

“BT, don’t antagonize him,” Cooper said quietly. He had the medkit out again, and as Blisk scooted a little further onto the bed, he set it out at his feet.  “It’s your prerogative,” he went on, setting out a small jar of some weird, slightly metallic substance as well as gauze and fresh bandages. “But its wartime: we’ve seen a lot. No-one here’s going to judge.”

“That ain’t what Ah’m worried about,” Blisk muttered, but said no more on the matter and Cooper nodded in acceptance.  From behind him, the Vanguard stepped up, again pulling his gloves away to reveal his strikingly human-looking hands, and then forearms as well as he pushed his sleeves up. Blisk forgot about the pestering as he realized what he was seeing.  “Ain’t never seen anything like  _ that _ before,” he said, sounding impressed.  BT shot him a flicker of his optic in the first overtly friendly gesture he’d seen from the bot.

“I’m certain you haven’t,” BT said, holding his hands up briefly as he proudly showed them off. “Aside from this,” he gave his wedge-shaped and unavoidably robotic head a knock with his knuckles, “You’d be hard-pressed to spot the differences between my body and an organic one. A few more months and the whole frame will be completed and I won’t have to hide in a helmet.” His voice was rich with excitement and pride, and Blisk couldn’t help a tiny, crooked smile, sincerely impressed and intrigued.

“It’s all custom and hand-built from design to manufacture,” Jack added, just as proud. Blisk nodded, but then flinched as BT touched him, startled by both the touch itself and the surprisingly convincing warmth he possessed as well. 

“I’m going to re-stitch this wound and then apply this,” BT informed him smoothly, holding up the jar of unidentifiable gunk, “Which will significantly accelerate the healing process.  I apologize in advance for any discomfort caused while I work.” Blisk didn’t flinch a second time, watching curiously as BT peeled the bandage and the seal away from his leg. Oh, it hurt like hell, but he kept a tight lid on the pain, refusing to let any of it show, though his knees shook faintly despite his best efforts.  If BT or Cooper noticed, neither mentioned it. 

“How significantly?” Blisk asked, and again, Cooper gave him a particularly brilliant smile.  

“Let’s take a look at your hand,” he said somewhat cryptically and here, Blisk balked.

“Rather not,” he said flatly.    
“Trust me,” Cooper said.  “You’ll be surprised.” He held out his hand, and while Blisk obediently dropped his bandaged fist into it lightly, he also, pointedly, averted his eyes.  Jack chuckled but didn’t press the issue. Instead, he simply set to unwrapping it. “How’s the pain?” He asked as a wash of cold air made Blisk’s palm tingle and itch.

“Not bad at all…” He admitted, mildly confused by his own report.

“Feel tender? Like bruised really badly, maybe?” Cooper pressed.  Blisk nodded. That seemed about right. “And how about now?” Very gently, the other Pilot pressed his thumb into the patch of bright pink, new skin at the center of Blisk’s palm, making the mercenary jump. 

Blisk swung his head back around, wide-eyed, to stare first at his hand, inexplicably whole again, albeit red and tender still, and then, just as startled, at Cooper, who grinned.

“Answer your question?” Blisk watched in awe, his fingers twitching as Cooper used his fingers to brush away a peculiar white powder from around the edge between new and old flesh.  “Nanites, dormant until they come in contact with both organic tissue and oxygen. They work like crazy for a few hours to rebuild whatever part of the body they come in contact with until they run out of charge.  The wound’s closed but I want to make sure all the ligaments and dense tissue is rebuilt properly so I’m going to give you another dose-” and as he spoke, Blisk watched Jack reach over and take a fat scoop of the stuff from the jar with two fingers, and plop it into his palm.  He flinched again, and this time Cooper definitely noticed. “Ah, sorry if it’s still tender,” he said. Blisk shrugged it off, looking away as Cooper cradled his hand with one hand and rubbed the gel into his palm with the other, scooping up a bit of the excess for the back of his hand a moment later.  His hand tingled and felt hot for a few moments and then even more of the tender ache had faded. Down by his knee, BT was giving his freshly cleaned and resealed thigh the same treatment.

“Ah don’t deserve this…” Blisk blurted. The mercenary felt guilt so acutely it was almost a sense of panic. He was again unable to comprehend why these men would do so much for him. 

“Probably not,” BT replied dryly, but a fair bit of the animosity from before was gone now. Blisk’s legs broke out in gooseflesh as the pain suddenly dimmed to a faint ache, the nanites doing their magic. 

“No, Ah  _ really _ don’t-”

“We know,” Cooper cut him off, and now that he’d finished bandaging Blisk’s hand back up, he was watching his face closely - far too close for comfort, in fact. Blisk felt his stomach flop unhappily, and he looked away, unable to face that cool, contemplative look.  “But I don’t care about that right now.” He didn’t say any more, but he didn’t need to. Blisk’s mind had been sent tumbling. He pulled his hand back as Cooper released it, examining the significantly thinner bandages around his palm, and gave it an experimental poke. It was quite sore still, but whole. His fingers moved terribly stiffly, aching and creaking like rusted-out hinges, but they moved.  He reckoned that with a little work, he’d get them loosened back out to full mobility. He picked at his shirt despondently with his left hand, tugging it away from his skin in discomfort. It really was disgusting.

“Don’t suppose th’ offer still stands ta clean this,” he murmured.

“Of course,” BT replied, giving his leg a pat and closing up the medkit again. Blisk nodded, and, before he could talk himself out of it again, quickly pulled it up and away, tossing it to his feet where the Titan stood.  Cooper’s jaw dropped, and a surprised burst of static escaped the bot.

“Oh, wow,” BT murmured.  “How did you even survive that?”

Blisk’s chest was riddled with scars, all from deep, slicing gashes that left his skin and the muscles over his heart misshapen and crinkled with thick, white tissue. All but a very few of the numerous marks on his chest were the same size, shape, and pointing in the same direction. It was brutally plain he’d somehow survived a remarkably savage attack at some point in his not-too-distant past.

“Don’t want ta talk about it,” Blisk whispered, laying back down shakily and turning away.  He folded his arms up over his chest, partially hugging himself, partially covering the mess he’d revealed.

Cooper had been stunned silent, but now blurted,

“Oh! Y-your back is all burnt…”  Indeed, though his shirt had somehow survived, Blisk’s back was an angry red and blistered, the skin cracked and oozing here and there. 

“Yeah, Ah know,” Blisk whispered.  Nobody had asked him for an explanation to what had happened to his chest, but the memory had bubbled up into his mind anyway, and now his mind swam with thoughts of the singular most traumatic, hurtful moment of his vile, hateful and violent life. He wasn’t looking to see the exchange of worried looks between Pilot and Titan, but he heard the telling pause.

“Do you want-”

“Nuh,” Blisk knew what he would offer, and didn’t think he could bear to hear it. “Don’t waste it.”

“I’m going to get this going,” BT said, collecting Blisk’s shirt.

“Thank you, BT,” Cooper said softly.  Blisk jerked, curling up a bit as Cooper laid his forgotten blanket back over him.  He gathered it up around himself tightly with a shiver. He was all too ready for a little privacy so he could have the total breakdown he knew was coming, but Cooper wasn't leaving. "I meant to ask," Cooper said quietly after an awkward moment of silence, "Where would you like us to take you?" 

_ Anywhere _ , Blisk thought, but answered, "Bohr."    
    " _ Bohr _ ?!" The surprise in Cooper's voice made Blisk smile bitterly. Bohr was, technically speaking, exactly nowhere. 

   "Yeah - _ Ah _ -" He rolled onto his back to look back at the other Pilot, cringing from the sting of fresh pressure on his injuries. "Bohr.  Got a safehouse there. Kin get home from there," he finished, hissing as he laid his weight out fully.    
    "Yeah alright," Cooper said softly, but he was moving back into the room instead of out of it.  Blisk watched him warily. "But only if you let me treat those burns..." He paused, and added in a rush, "and anything else you haven't told us about yet!" Blisk tried to glare but even he could tell it came off looking more like a sulk. He didn’t appreciate being scolded.

    "Already told ya, Ah don't-" He cut off when Cooper's face screwed up with what looked like real ire.   
    "You 'don't deserve it'?" He demanded, and Blisk blinked in surprise at the mean look he was getting.  "I've heard enough of that," Cooper went on tartly. He had decided to try a different track with the big man since being nice was getting him stonewalled. "This is my ship, my turf," he snapped, pulling the medkit back up from under the gurney yet again and slapping it down at the foot of the bed with enough force to make Blisk jump slightly.  " _ My _ Biogel and  _ you _ are in my custody, so I'll be deciding what you do and do not deserve, Kuben Blisk."

Blisk was stunned.  Cooper had to have an edge, he reasoned, to have survived what he went through on Typhon, not to mention years and years on the battlefield, but he’d not seen a single hint of it until this very moment, the younger man seeming to prefer the passive route.  He was almost relieved to see the other Pilot had teeth after all. 

“Now please, let me see.” Cooper had the jar of silvery muck in his hand again and had fixed Blisk with an expectant stare.  “If you don’t want to sit up without a shirt just roll onto your side,” he added when Blisk didn’t move immediately. All kinds of alarm bells were going off in the merc’s head. He didn’t want to show pain, didn’t want to express any sort of vulnerability.  He hated the idea of exposing the mangled up mess over his heart again, but the idea of willingly turning his back on an enemy made his skin prickle. He was hurt and freaked out and years and years of carefully crafted facades and self-control were falling apart like sand through his fingers.  Panic lurked just outside of his peripherals, and he must have checked out, or let it show on his face because Cooper had softened again, his sympathetic expression making Blisk feel sick. He opened his mouth to speak and Blisk hastily rolled over, flopping down onto his belly with a resigned groan.  He gathered up the pillow in both arms, hugging it and using it to prop his chest and head up enough to watch the other Pilot. The look of sympathy didn’t really leave, but Cooper smiled around it. “I promise I’m not trying to pick on you,” he said consolingly and Blisk looked away.   
“Ah… I know.” He jerked hard when a moment later Cooper touched his back, the gel feeling cold like menthol against the burns.  He sucked in a breath, holding it as long as he could. It shook when he let it out, and he kept his face averted. “‘M not usually like this,” he muttered after a moment, once Cooper had gotten enough of his burns treated that the heat and the sting of them finally started to fade away into nothing.   
“What happened down there?” Cooper asked, working his way down from Blisk’s shoulders, the gentle touches starting to raise gooseflesh in their wake.  Blisk wished it hurt a little more. Cooper was too gentle.   
“A lot… too much.” It was as much of a confession as he was going to willingly give. Cooper didn’t press him.

“Well, if today’s already been too much, it’s no wonder you’re off your A-Game,” the Pilot conceded thoughtfully.  Blisk hated how right he was. He couldn’t answer, scared he’d scream if he opened his mouth. Luckily it didn’t seem he expected one.  “Get some rest,” Cooper went on, giving an uninjured patch of Blisk’s shoulder a light squeeze that again made the merc flinch. “Bhor’s a long ways off. Once we’ve initiated the jump I’m going to grab some shuteye.  If you need anything, BT will hear you.” Blisk didn’t respond more than to grunt softly in reply, and Cooper finally left him alone, shutting off the lights as he walked out. 

\---------

 

Blisk didn’t sleep. He stayed curled up on the gurney, lost in thought and misery.  He barely even noticed the whir of the jump engines and the brief shudder of the little ship as they initiated their first of several jumps it would take to get to Bohr. 

       The nanites were doing their work well to dispel the worst of the pain, but it was going to take more than a single dose to heal that wound as completely as his hand had been.  He didn’t mind. He almost clung to the lingering ache of his thigh, in fact. He could be, as BT has pointed out, in a million pieces scattered across a bombed-out battlefield. He could have been shot dead on the spot.  He could have been left to bleed out, but instead, they’d  _ helped _ him.  He was grateful in a way Blisk hadn’t been in a very, very long time.

Every little bit was an improvement over what he knew should have been.  Anything else, he could just tough out and be glad it wasn’t worse.

He was good at that: being tough.  Usually, anyway. 

Pain, both physical and psychological, were long-time companions.  Hunger, fear, blood, and bile? Old poker mates. He could turn his mind and his heart from these things as easily as he could turn his back on the sun.

But one thing had always bothered him, no matter what he did.

Blisk was cold.

Just cold. Not freezing, not chilled. If he were ever to admit to a weakness, it would be this. Not pain, nor empathy, not his somewhat annoying fear of heights. Just. Cold.

He had a blanket, which he clung to, but the ambient temperature of the little ship was just a few degrees shy of ‘warm’ - it was cold in space and it was common practice not to fight against the chill  _ too  _ much- but it was all it took to leave the merc in a great deal of discomfort. It had sunk into the soles of his feet like permafrost when he’d ventured out not too long ago, and had only soaked further and further upward, until an hour later, he couldn’t fight the shivers and soft chattering of teeth any longer.

He hated being cold.  

He hated how his teeth chattered despite his best efforts to lock his jaw so they couldn’t, hated how pathetic he must look (even if no one was looking) and he absolutely despised how vulnerable ...and alone… he felt, curled up in the dark gasping and trembling as he huddled under a blanket that should have been plenty for anyone else.

 

He was so lost in his little sea of misery he didn’t even hear the door open.  

“Hey.”

Blisk jumped, flipping around to face his unexpected visitor with a soft snarl.  He could just make out Cooper’s figure in the darkness, several paces away still, and recoiled somewhat.

“What th’ hell, Cooper.” He said, narrowly keeping his voice steady.  He was still shivering but for the moment had his clattering teeth under control, at least.

“BT sent me,” Cooper said softly. “Are you alright?”

_ No, I'm not! _ Blisk thought bitterly.

 "Yeah, why?" As his eyes adjusted, he could see Cooper frown faintly by the green light of the chronometer on the wall.

"BT said he could hear you 'issuing sounds of acute discomfort'," he said, edging in a little closer.  "He doesn't have the programming for pranks, so just tell me what's wrong so we can fix it." There was a striking tone of no bullshit to Cooper's voice and, realizing he couldn't bluff out of this one, Blisk backed down.

"Cold," he said, a little bitterly.  He grimaced and backed up. "Not that it's that bad in here, Ah jus' really _ hate _ bein' cold..." He sat up slowly, gathering his blanket up around himself, and gave Cooper a miserable little smile and a shrug. "Ah'm fine, you kin tell BT ta stop worryin'."  He was waiting for the snide remarks, the unkind teasing, but it never came, and in hindsight, Blisk realized even he knew Cooper was better than that. 

 "Well with all the jumps we're going to make, I don't really want to spare the extra power on atmospherics," Cooper said thoughtfully, "But..." He nodded to himself and turned on his heel to hurry out. Blisk blinked, surprised at being left mid-sentence.  The younger Pilot was only gone for a couple of minutes, however, before he returned. Blisk's jaw dropped.  

 

       Cooper was laden with a veritable mountain of blankets, piled high enough in his arms that he had to lean out to one side to see around them. He dropped them to the floor with a soft  _ whumph! _ beside the bed, and produced what turned out to be Blisk's clothes as well. They were still warm from laundering and Blisk couldn't help but let out a soft groan of appreciation.  He stood carefully, and was dressed in moments, but eyed the pile of blankets curiously. Cooper smiled, the expression jarringly sweet, and ushered Blisk back to bed with a wave of his hands.  Blisk climbed back up onto the gurney slowly, more than a little stunned, and was starting to pull the blanket back up when Cooper tugged it away. "Hang on," he said, and laid it aside. Instead, he bent and fished one out of the stack he'd brought, and handed it over.

        "Oh...!" It was supple, heavy, and outstandingly soft.  Blisk shook it out over himself somewhat shakily, torn between hiding how happy this simple little thing made him, and letting it show.  "This's really nice," Blisk murmured, deciding to split the difference. Cooper's sweet little smile widened into a big grin.

       "One of my favorites," he agreed, but held his hands up when Blisk immediately tried to hand it back. "No! I have another one just like it!  It's fine. Really." His smile softened again, and Blisk swallowed a knot in his throat. "But thank you..." Cooper trailed off for a minute, watching Blisk's obvious reluctance. "Look, just...let us help you be comfortable, and enjoy it, alright?"

       Blisk sighed, nodding.  Cooper handed him the first blanket, let him get it shook out as well, and lifted a third questioningly.  Blisk hesitated. He didn't  _ need _ three. That was insane. And maybe just a little pathetic.

 "Want the whole stack?" Cooper asked, dropping his voice into a sly tone, sounding as if he were offering something sneaky and grossly overindulgent. Alone in the dark, with limited witnesses and drifting in empty space as they were, Blisk supposed he sort of was. 

 "You kin spare 'em?" Blisk asked, a little too hopefully.  Cooper nodded and was already spreading a third blanket over his thighs for him.

 "Yeah. These are all just extras!" The younger man chuckled to himself somewhat. "I like a good mountain of them, myself," he admitted. "And we've amassed quite the collection on accident." 

 Blisk considered this.

 "Alright, then. Yeah." A little bit of warmth was already starting to seep back into his skin.  It really was an excessive indulgence, but it seemed like such a nice idea…

 "Go on, get comfortable, then," Cooper said, nudging Blisk's elbow where he'd leveraged himself into a mostly-upright position.  Blisk deliberately didn't take the hint and got himself a flat look from Cooper as a result. Instead of arguing with him, however, he simply took the next blanket in the stack and draped it over Blisk's head. The merc sputtered, batting the downy fabric away from his face, and was well on his way to getting mad when Cooper took the next blanket, still folded, and whacked him across the chest with it. "Lay down, you stubborn git!" He chuckled, whacking Blisk again, and again until the big man was spitting and gasping in a fluster, and was forced down just to defend himself.

 "Awright! Awright!" Blisk groused, relenting with a huff.  He wiggled down into the growing pile of blankets, rolling onto his side to face Cooper, and feigned a glower.  "Yer as stubborn as Ah am," he observed wryly. Cooper flipped out the blanket he'd just been beating him with, chuckling as he made a show of draping it over Blisk.

 "Pretty sure I'm stubborner since I won that one," Cooper said smoothly.  Blisk looked scandalized, but he couldn't actually formulate a reasonable argument.  Instead, he scowled, sulking. "Maybe remember that next time you dig your heels in trying to hang on to that macho image of yours," Cooper went on with a smirk. Blisk snorted softly.

"Thas' how Ah stay alive, Cooper." He said simply.

"And you're miserable," came the fast retort, followed by one last blanket. Blisk let out a particularly heavy sigh as he mulled on Cooper's words.

"Yeah, Ah am," He agreed.  He didn't like how astute these guys were, didn't like the core of his problems thrown back in his face.  He didn't like the sad, sympathetic look Cooper was giving him either. The admission stung, and he couldn't think of what else to say.

 "Take it easy," Cooper said after a moment, turning away. “Just… _call_ , alright? If you think of anything you want.” Blisk didn’t miss the careful choice of words from the other Pilot, and he frowned through the darkness but knew better than to try and argue. When it became apparent he’d opted to remain silent, Jack simply shrugged and headed out of the room.  “Goodnight,” he said quietly.  
“Night,” Blisk rumbled back, unable to avoid the polite reply.  He didn’t see Jack’s smile, of course, and, huffing softly to himself, he hunkered down and, surprisingly, fell asleep almost instantly. 

 

Jack was still smiling to himself as he rejoined BT in their berth. 

“Nothing a small mountain of blankets didn’t fix,” Jack said smugly.  BT laughed softly, but didn’t comment on how happy Jack seemed about it. 

“Doctor Cooper knows best, hmm?” He said instead, pulling Jack in close for a hug and a gentle nuzzle. Jack snorted and shook his head.

“All those sad little noises he was making were because he was  _ cold _ !” Jack chuckled. BT flickered in a big blink of surprise.

“Oh, wow.” He said flatly, clearly trying to keep quiet and not laugh.  Jack nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah. Think he’s probably going to cook himself, now, though!” He giggled.  BT chuckled again and withdrew, climbing to his feet.   
“Oh well! If he dies, he dies!” BT said brightly, earning a playful huff and a soft smack from Jack. 

“BT!” BT laughed and danced away, flickering playfully. 

“Okay! Alright!” BT gasped, and after a moment, Jack settled again, though he still grinned through the dark at the Titan.  “Get to sleep, I’m going to go work on the telemetry for our next jump,” BT said. Jack nodded, already curling under his own mountainous nest of blankets. 

“Aw-” Jack cut off around a yawn, “-Alright. Don’t stay up too long though, huh?” BT nodded.

“I’ll be quick.” Jack nodded in acceptance and rolled over with a sigh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly? Just feed me love guys. I'm working SO hard on this. ╥﹏╥


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a fucking mess. There's no way they're going to be able to glue all the pieces back together again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo uh, warning for one epically severe/traumatic PTSD meltdown. If ya'll don't have the spoons for some second-hand angst, you might want to wait to read until you do.

\--4--

Two, then three hours passed.  Jack wasn’t sleeping. It wasn’t the thought of having a mass murderer on board that kept him awake, nor the faint sound from down the hall of Blisk’s gentle snoring that proved the mercenary had finally given in to real, actually restful sleep.  At first, Jack had blamed BT’s absence - the Vanguard hadn’t yet finished his calculations, but, sensing Jack’s unrest, had eventually returned to Jack’s berth anyway.  
Jack very rarely lost any sleep nestled in his Titan’s embrace, and it quickly became evident to the Pilot that it was, in fact, Blisk that was keeping him awake. 

Blisk could play the tough guy all he wanted, but Jack couldn’t unsee the sad, sad eyes hidden beneath the prickly facade. Jack couldn’t let the image drop from his mind and he desperately tried to unpack all the little hints and signs so that he could understand the depth of the damage. Despite himself, his heart ached for the mercenary, and he couldn’t help but wonder how he could help.

“Jack, you need to sleep,” BT murmured. He could feel his Pilot’s mind racing and knew full well the cause.

“I know,” Jack sighed.  “I just...don’t understand, you know?” He sat up slowly, rubbing his face.  “Is...is he just a big pushover, or is he really _that_ messed up? How do you get like that, BT?” 

“Evil catches up with its agents,” BT said softly.  “Those scars - they’re obvious evidence of a very deliberate attempt at murder.  You have the integrity to help him now because you are safe and strong, and he is not. Tell me, wouldn’t you have turned on him back on Typhon, if you’d had the chance?” Jack nodded sullenly. Cornered at gunpoint in the burning wreckage of the _Draconis_ , he’d thought of at least a dozen ways he’d have liked to kill Blisk before he finished threatening him. BT, even, had thought of at least one, and he’d almost gotten the bastard.  Now, however, Jack just could not reconcile that memory of Blisk with the shell of a man they had in their custody. “I have no doubt,” BT went on, “that there’s a line of people that would stretch halfway around Harmony ready to drive a blade or a bullet into his heart. He has to live with that. Every day. Wherever he goes.” Jack nodded. “That’s what he’s used to, though,” BT went on. “ _You_ , on the other hand, you’ve stumped him.” BT chuckled at this last part. “Imagine… actually completely crushing your enemy with kindness.”  Jack frowned.

“I’m not sure that’s what I want if he’s going to keep making that face, though,” he muttered.   BT let out a sound like a snort, leaning in to hug Jack warmly. 

“You, my friend, are too pure for this terrible world,” he rumbled proudly.  “Blisk is-” A horrific shriek of agony resonated up from the back of the ship, cutting BT off. Both Titan and Pilot jumped, the pair exchanging a startled look.

“What the hell was that?!” Jack gasped, sitting up sharply and looking back toward the med bay as if he could see through walls. “Was that Blisk?!” Another, more muffled cry reached them, and then another, the awful sounds resolving into broken bays of fear and pain.  The hair on the back of Jack’s arms and neck stood on end, the Pilot chilled by the haunting sounds. He was on his feet before he realized it, darting out of their little room and down the hall with BT following close behind. 

Blisk had become ensnared in a nightmare, the mercenary thrashing and writhing as he struggled to escape whatever personal hell he’d slipped into, his cries growing quieter but no less stricken as his condition continued to spiral out of control.

For a moment, all Jack could do was stand and watch in horror. He’d heard of night terrors this bad before: striking upon only the most hurt and the most broken men, but he’d never personally witnessed anything like it before. 

“Jesus Christ,” he gasped, horrified.  He took a step forward, but BT caught his arm. 

“Careful,” BT warned. “He’s dangerous, especially like this.” He reached out, slapping the lights on in the hopes it would rouse Blisk, but the barrier between nightmare and reality was strong.  “Blisk,” he called the name, stepping in front of Jack. “Wake up…. _Kuben_!” He barked the name, but Blisk only continued to thrash and cry and he was now well on his way to slipping off the gurney as he fought his unseen foe.  BT swore softly and hurried to Blisk’s side, trusting his mechanical strength to be sufficient to withstand whatever backlash might occur if he got too close. He put a hand down on Blisk’s shoulder, intending to shake him but also push him back to the center of the bed.

Blisk _screamed_ , loud and shrill enough that Jack couldn’t help throwing his hands up to cover his ears, the Pilot’s face twisting in shock and pain from the sound.   

Blisk rolled onto his side, his hands flying up to guard himself as his eyes snapped open, fixing in terror somewhere above BT’s head, not seeing the Titan at all.  He slapped BT’s hand away and scrambled backward, again risking falling. BT caught his wrist and yanked Blisk back, rolling him onto his belly. Before he could be fought off, he settled his weight over Blisk’s back and pinned him.  Blisk screamed again, fighting and kicking ferociously, but despite his strength, BT didn’t budge. As the realization that he was no match for the power detaining him sank into his terror-hazed mind, Blisk began to blubber, crying for help and sobbing half-formed negations. Before their very eyes, Kuben Blisk broke. He went slack with surrender beneath BT’s weight, his whole body shaking something terrible. Jack ran around the other side of the gurney and began squeezing and shaking Blisk’s uninjured hand as he and BT both called his name, trying to bring him around.  Jack’s eyes were wide with shock and fixed on Blisk’s twisted and tear-streaked face. He was rapidly turning distraught himself as Blisk’s terror stretched on. 

“What do we do, BT?”  His voice broke, betraying his dismay. 

All at once Blisk suddenly went eerily quiet as he started to surface.  For a moment, he held his breath, then began gasping like a landed fish between hard, body-wracking sobs. Jack was able to watch the awareness return to his eyes, slow and striking. When their gazes finally met, however, Blisk’s face crumpled all over again. BT released him and backed away, and Blisk immediately turned his face down into the mattress, his shoulders shaking violently as he sobbed in silence. He was no longer unhinged, but the pain lingered, and try as he might to hide it, there was no concealing it anymore. 

Jack couldn’t tear his eyes away.  His mind raced, the oppressive urge to _fix it_ becoming unbearable. In what felt like a fit of insanity, he vaulted up onto the gurney to flop out alongside the broken mess of a man and threw his arms over his shoulders.  Blisk let out an awful, choked squawk, jerking away from the touch, but Jack followed him, doggedly hauling Blisk back against him until he had his head tucked under his chin and as much of him as he could hold on to gathered into a firm embrace. Blisk rattled in his arms.

“Deep breaths, Kuben,” he whispered, sighing as Blisk shuddered hard and then fell perfectly still.  He was holding his breath again. “ _Breathe,_ ” Jack urged, and this time Blisk obeyed.  It was a soggy, hitching sort of hiccup more than a breath but air shuddered back into his quivering lungs.  He held it until Jack gave him a little shake, blowing it out with a soft groan. And again. With Jack’s encouragement, he drew another, and another, until his breathing turned slow and even. Then the trembling slowed, and the shaking and jerking of his shoulders more or less stopped. Jack held on through all of it, rubbing at his shoulder and the back of his head gently as Blisk gradually recovered.  BT watched from a few paces back in silent awe.  

At long last, Blisk let out a shuddering sigh.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned the word, soft and barely audible, his voice muffled by Jack’s tear-soaked chest.  He shuddered again and shifted minutely, but Jack didn’t let him go just yet. 

“Welcome back,” Jack whispered and then added, as Blisk again tried to pull back, “Nuh uh, I’m not letting go if you until I’m sure you’re alright.” He tightened his grip slightly for emphasis, and to his surprise, Blisk went limp with a whimper. For a few long heartbeats, Blisk didn’t move.  Jack figured he was probably drifting back toward sleep. He was proven wrong when Blisk’s hands moved, one bunching into the front of Jack’s sodden shirt and the other coming up to wind around his back, meekly returning his embrace.

“Haven’t been aw’righ’ in a decade, Cooper,” Blisk whispered.  Jack let out a long, sad sigh in reply.

“I… I can tell,” he admitted.  “Want to talk about it?” He offered after a pause.

“No,” Blisk scoffed, his tone wet and petulant.  He made another feeble attempt to pull away but Jack held on. The other Pilot let out another heavy sigh, but, as usual, didn’t press the matter.  “Jus…” Blisk had a habit of speaking up long after Jack had given up on an answer. “Jus’ gimme a minute…” He was still hanging on to Jack, his forehead pressed against the younger Pilot’s chest.  His voice was muffled and soggy, and Jack could feel tiny tremors still shaking the big man’s body at odd intervals.  

“You can have as many minutes as you want,” Jack whispered, gingerly carding his fingers into Blisk’s hair. It was wiry and slick from sweat and stress, but Jack didn’t withdraw, noticing the subtle shudder the gentle touch garnered, Blisk sighing and relaxing somewhat as Jack continued to pet the back of his head steadily. His gaze slid over Blisk’s shoulder to BT, who was staring back at him, optic dim. 

“You can have something to take the edge off if you want,” He offered.  Blisk actually leaned a little further into Jack.

“Ah’m fine, thanks,” he murmured.  Did Jack imagine him pressing up into his hand oh so slightly? 

But then, without warning, Blisk pulled away from Jack, rolling onto his back and blowing out a ragged breath. His whole face was red and blotchy, trails of salt streaking his cheeks where the tears had flowed.  The skin around his eyes and mouth was taut with tension, deep lines creasing his face and adding at least a decade to his visage. Jack sat up, granting him his space, and Blisk turned to look at him with bloodshot eyes, his expression miserable. “Don’t look at me like that,” Blisk sighed.  “Ah earned this fair an’ square, trust me.” He closed his eyes, unable to face the sorry look Jack was giving him, and rubbed his face with both hands, scrubbing away the mess. Jack watched him a minute more, then shot BT another look.

“Come back to the berth with us,” Jack said, speaking fast.  “There’s plenty of room. You don’t have to be alone in here if it’s this bad.” 

“Ah’m fine,” Blisk repeated.  He hadn’t moved his hands from his face.  “Jus’...go back ta bed.” His voice rattled still, hoarse and trembling.  He was most certainly _not_ fine.  “Sorry Ah woke ya.” Jack stood but didn’t move from his place at Blisk’s shoulder. 

“Are you-”

“ _Please_ don’t ask me again,” Blisk cut in before Jack could say more, and his tone was so softly imploring that Jack shut up immediately with a click of his teeth.  He glanced at BT, who shook his head.  

“He knows best, Jack,” the Titan said.  Jack nodded and, giving Blisk’s arm one last little squeeze of reassurance, pulled away.  

Blisk didn’t open his eyes, didn’t dare watch them leave, but after a moment he could see the light through his eyelids vanish as the lights were turned off.  He lay unmoving, listening carefully for the door to close and their footsteps to fade before he rolled back onto his belly. He made sure the quiet sounds he made were well muffled into his pillow as he worked out the rest of his pain alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH. Ouch. 
> 
> I know I'm a little late to the party to ask this four chapters in, but does this kind of thing need tag warnings? Without too many spoilers, we're going to see fleeting mentions of suicide/death idealization, mentions of assault, and even some questionable consent issues. Not to mention more angst and battle violence. I think most of you lovely readers are pretty familiar with my stuff, and have been drug through some pretty heavy shit without warning prevoiusly(sorry), but whaddaya know I'm going through some stuff right now and can see how some folks might want a heads up. I can't promise I'll nail it all on the first try but if ya'll have anything you want a warning for, let me know and I'll do my best to give you due consideration.  
> That said, rest assured I'm going to balance that bullshit out with some warm and fuzzies, too. My unhappy-ending experiments are over.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

\--5--

Morning arrived late when Jack, bleary-eyed and groggy, finally stumbled out of bed and shuffled down the short hallway to their med bay to check on Blisk. 

Blisk, who’d been awake for hours with nothing but his own twisted, miserable thoughts for company.  Blisk, who, quite frankly, looked like absolute utter shit. He was sitting upright on the gurney when Jack arrived, staring with hollow eyes into the distance.  He turned his head slowly as the other Pilot opened the door, giving Jack a despondent stare. 

“Are you alright?” Jack blurted, drawing to a premature halt in the doorway.  Blisk’s face was gray and sagging, his red-rimmed eyes swollen and glassy. He looked away and shrugged.

“That Biogel did good work.  Hand’s fine, leg still aches a bit but th’ hole’s closed up at least,” the merc reported, deliberately avoiding Jack’s actual question. To his credit, his voice was only a little bit sandy, cracking here and there but otherwise far stronger than Jack had expected it to be, given Blisk’s state the night before. 

Something ugly and formless wavered between them. Stubborn determination set into Blisk’s face.  Yes, he knew there was an elephant in the room. No, he wasn’t going to acknowledge it. 

Jack sighed, contemplating repeating the question, but decided to let it drop instead.  There would be bigger battles with Blisk, he was sure. 

“That’s good,” he said instead, frowning.  Blisk was making a big show of stretching his freshly healed hand, toying with his fingers one at a time and very deliberately not looking at Jack.  The awkward silence stretched. “Are you hungry?” Jack started over. Blisk shrugged again, still not looking up. Jack rolled his eyes. Surely he had to be! He let out a soft huff and gave hospitality one last try. “If you’re not claustrophobic, there’s a shower… and endless hot water.” 

Blisk’s head shot up, and Jack grinned.

_ There we go. _

“Yeah?” The merc sat up a little straighter in interest.  He looked back down quickly when he caught Jack’s smile, but he was no longer deliberately ignoring him.  

“Yeah,” Jack said.  “Help yourself, when you’re ready.  Clean towels in the cabinet overhead. Can’t miss it.” 

Blisk’s face lit up in delight, the genuine smile he wore reserved, but radiant.  Jack felt his face go warm.

It was a terribly handsome smile.

Blisk was already on his feet, and Jack took clearing the way as an opportunity to retreat.  

“Seriously, take as long as you want,” he called, even as Blisk eagerly hobbled out across the hallway into the closet-sized lav.  “The recycler heats the water faster than it flows. I’ve tested it.”

“Ah plan ta!” Blisk called back, his tone brighter. The door closed behind the merc, and Jack grinned as he heard the water start almost immediately.  He laughed aloud when, a minute later, Blisk issued loud groan of delight that was easily heard through the tiny ship.

 

“That’s quite the smile you’re wearing, Jack.”

Jack jumped.  He hadn’t heard BT approach at all.

"It's a refreshing change," he tipped his chin in the general direction of the shower sounds.  "Dealing with someone that miserable is a drag," Jack said, sidling into the little alcove galley between the med bay and the cockpit to see to breakfast.

"Indeed," BT agreed passively.  He was relieved too: Jack had absorbed a fair bit of Blisk's pain, and if the mercenary's marginally brighter attitude was all it took to soothe some of the second-hand sting of it, he wasn't going to complain.

Still, he couldn't help but notice how deeply affected Jack really was. 

 "Does he remember last night's events?" BT asked.  Blisk had been entirely out of his head, and BT had been surprised by the mercenary's receptiveness when Jack got involved.  By day, Blisk hardly seemed like the type to tolerate physical intimacy of any sort, let alone as comfort during crisis, and the Titan wondered whether he'd been less present than he'd seemed...or if he was repressing more than they realized. 

 "Didn't ask," Jack admitted.  "But he sure was evasive this morning.  Wouldn't look at me at all. I'm pretty sure he remembers," Jack chuckled.  

“I’m still surprised he let you do that,” BT commented.  There was no need to specify what he meant, and Jack’s ears turned pink. BT cocked his head slightly, noting the guilty blush with interest.  Jack noticed the look he was getting and turned even pinker, the color spreading into his cheeks. He looked away, grumbling softly, and BT chuckled and let it drop.  

 

Blisk spent well over an hour in the shower.  He washed thoroughly, and then he washed again.  Then, he simply sat down under the stream and savored the warmth and the quiet. 

Despite being outgoing to a fault in his youth, Blisk had long since become a much more solitary man. Private and guarded by habit, he preferred peace and quiet to socializing.  Preferred secrecy to sharing. He kept his doors closed and locked for his own safety. He’d learned the hard way that relationships - _ real  _ ones where bonds and trust were shared- were a hazard he couldn’t risk. 

Cooper, it seemed, was quite the opposite.  For every one of Blisk’s guarded moments, the younger Pilot seemed to have a dozen openings.  He seemed all too ready to open his heart to anyone, to offer whatever was available on hand whether it was deserved or not. 

It was exhausting. 

He supposed he should be grateful for the concern.  He still couldn’t fathom how the younger man could possibly care, let alone offer him aid. Offer him consolation. Comfort, even.

It was disturbing.

How delusional was Jack? What did he think he saw in Blisk that made him believe the mercenary was worth saving? Worth a mountain of blankets; worth sitting up in the dark of night with a tear-soaked shirt and his hands in Blisk’s filthy, war-soiled hair?  He could still feel his fingers against his scalp, gentle and soothing. How could a man Blisk had held at gunpoint even bear to touch him at all?

He suddenly thought of the last whore he’d bought.  He hadn’t been particularly unkind to her, but she’d burst into tears the moment he’d laid hands on her.  She’d known full well who he was and all that he’d done. She’d done her job: was good at it even, but she’d still been weeping when he left. That was years ago.  He hadn’t bothered with anyone, bought or otherwise, since. Unsurprisingly, no one had bothered with him, either. It wasn’t any fun when people were wet in all the wrong places. 

Uninvited, another memory arose of when  _ he’d _ been wet in all the wrong places: in terrible agony and blind with terror, slipping in his own blood as he fled his home.  Love and blood alike had gushed out of him into the street and at the time he’d been too self-absorbed to understand  _ why _ a night of passion had turned into a narrowly failed attempt at murder. The memory haunted him, following him like a hungry animal that liked to pounce on him in the night, making him scream and cry and disturb his unlikely rescuers.

Blisk groaned softly and tipped his head back against the wall.  He clutched at the crinkled and gouged flesh over his heart and let the water pound down against his face so that the hiss and the steady pattering of droplets against his skin drowned out all other sound and sensation, until he could, for just a few precious minutes, turn his good-for-nothing over-analytical mind  _ off. _ At length, he got the memories ushered back into their graves, and was able to bury them again for the time being.  He fumbled up something else to focus on by taking stock of his condition yet again. 

The pain from yesterday's injuries had, miraculously, vanished almost entirely. His hand was whole again, the scrapes and burns nothing but a memory thanks to the biogel.  The gash in his thigh had closed and though his flesh was still tender and red and the muscle ached, he’d been able to walk on it with almost no trouble. He poked what was left of the wound, noting the sensation of something like a bad bruise, but nothing else.  Even his busted finger was now no more than bruised, and only slightly swollen. He almost missed the pain. It had been drowning out out his increasingly intrusive thoughts. Now, however, he had trapped himself in a cupboard-sized shower with them. He considered breaking the finger again just for the distraction.  

No. Best not, he concluded.  Cooper would have a fit and there’d be no extracting himself from the other man’s coddling. 

...Maybe he should break it, after all. 

No. Stop that. Move on.   
He contemplated how he was going to manage to repay Cooper and his Titan for his rescue.  He found he didn’t even know where to start, and so abandoned that dead-end, for now. The solution would present itself.  He thought of how much he missed Red. He, regrettably, thought about how he’d genuinely hoped he would die out there in the mud.

His daughters, he thought bitterly, were going to be a pair of really pissed off ladies, if they ever figured out he’d actually survived. That is if they’d bothered to wonder why he’d reached out in the first place. Probably not.  He’d been dead to them for a decade, anyway. He hoped someone would think to tell them when he finally did bite it. They’d like that, at least... 

“Kuben?” 

Blisk jumped, snarling through his startle as Cooper rapped softly on the semi-opaque shower stall door.

“ _ What _ ?!” He snapped, leaping to his feet defensively.  His hand still rested over his heart, and the other one rose to join it as he guarded himself on reflex. Cooper was nothing but a dark blur on the other side of the door, however, and he let his hands drop just as quickly as they’d risen.

“Sorry…” Cooper went on, sounding embarrassed. “Just… I wanted to make sure you were alright in there. It got awfully quiet.”  Red hot ire bubbled up into Blisk’s chest but just as quickly dispelled. Goddamn, but the kid meant well. Blisk rubbed his face, shaking off his irritation.

“Ah’m fine, Cooper,” he sighed.  “Th’ heat’s nice,” he said truthfully. He grimaced.  He sounded tired, even to himself.  

“Aah, sorry,” Cooper replied.  “Take your time, I won’t bother you again,” he promised.  Blisk held off a groan. It was probably just as well that he’d been interrupted from his rapidly darkening thoughts.

“Naah,” he said, as brightly dismissive as he could manage. “Scram, Ah’m comin’ out.”  He shut off the water just in time to hear the door to the rest of the ship close. Cooper had made quick work of clearing out.  “Heh,” Blisk rolled his eyes as he stepped out and spotted a clean towel, neatly folded and laid out over the edge of the sink for him.  “Tha’ little shit,” he muttered fondly to himself. He tried not to think about how he couldn't remember the last time someone had bothered with the little details like clean towels for him. In fact, he tried not to think at all as he dried off and dressed, hanging the towel up neatly to dry on the single hook on the back of the shower door as he left. 

 

The towel wasn’t the only offering Cooper had left him.  With really nowhere else to go, Blisk had returned to the medbay to find a tin of warm food, a datapad, and most surprising of all, his belongings including his comm and the half-dozen knives he’d been wearing when they picked him up. It was a deliberate and utterly idiotic act of trust.

It was also, weirdly, kind of touching. He took the weapons, and his comm, and carried it all over to the little work counter at the back of the room, and left it there. Just as Cooper was confident he wouldn’t attack, Blisk was confident he wouldn’t need them.  He dressed, ate, and moseyed curiously out into the ship, headed for the cockpit. 

 

He was greeted with a flicker from BT as he approached, and a big smile a moment later from Cooper. Blisk found himself wondering how such a formidable war veteran could retain such an innocently sweet smile. It was terribly disarming.

“Didn’t yer momma tell ya not ta give prisoners their weapons back?” Blisk drawled, halfway between teasing and admonishment.  “Ah could be comin’ up here ta slit yer throat!” Cooper’s sunny little smile only got brighter and Blisk felt compelled to avert his eyes.  

“Well, are you?” He asked, his tone cheerful. Blisk huffed indignantly before he could catch himself.

“No!” 

“Well then I have nothing to worry about!” Jack chirped.  Beside him, BT chuckled and shook his head. Blisk’s jaw hinged open, his incredulousness rendering him speechless. Jack’s expression turned triumphant, and Blisk thought he could see a smirk as the other Pilot turned to face forward once again. 

“We have two more jumps to Bohr, in case you’re wondering,” BT supplied, just before the ensuing silence got uncomfortable. “ETA is about this time tomorrow.” Blisk nodded. Not too bad at all.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone softening.  BT hadn’t turned back like Cooper had, and was contemplating him cooly, his optic’s shutters narrowed into a critical squint. 

“You’re very welcome,” BT said.  “You look like you’re feeling better,” he added after a beat, and Cooper turned back around to look Blisk over as well.  Blisk wrinkled his nose and backed up a half step, not liking the scrutiny. 

“You do!” Cooper agreed, all sunshine once more.  “You were so gray this morning…” Blisk rallied, not liking that they’d noticed any need for improvement in the first place, even if it was obvious, and feeling terribly uncomfortable to have it pointed out to him.

“Eeeh,” his first instinct was to tell them both to blow off, but he smothered the impulse. They were being nice; he could be, too.   “A bath’ll do that fer a guy,” he joked. “Should try it,” he added dryly, smirking. 

Cooper looked scandalized, and it was only when BT started laughing, his optic flickering in time with the rumbling baritone of his chuckles, that he realized it was a joke. He blushed hot red, a stampede of emotions racing across his face, the most gratifying of which was outrage that he’d been had, though a split moment later he was laughing along, and even Blisk shared in a chuckle.

“Nicely done,” BT rumbled, reaching out and giving Cooper’s arm a consolatory squeeze.  

“Humph!” Cooper huffed, feigning indignance.  “I think I liked you better when you were moping!” Blisk didn’t take the bait, snorting.

“Shoulda left me where ya found me, then,” he chortled.  “Anyway, thanks fer my stuff back. Was a nice gesture. A  _ dumb _ one. But nice.” 

 

He’d eventually given in to Cooper’s persistent invitations to stay up in the cockpit with them.  He sat behind BT in a fold-down jumpseat that, while uncomfortable, wasn’t nearly as bad as the gurney, and therefore pretty appealing.  It was a relief to be upright instead of bed-ridden. 

Once he'd stopped worrying about getting stabbed in the back - literally or figuratively - and actually begun to relax, Blisk came to realize that Cooper and his Titan were pretty darned good company. 

It'd been a very long time since Blisk had enjoyed  _ good company _ .  He didn't typically trust anyone anyway, but hidden underneath the rottenness, and even deeper under his well-founded mistrust of everyone, was a fierce intelligence that made interacting with most folks on a social level nearly impossible. He didn't take ignorance lightly, and bullshit was the best way to drive him into rage.  He didn't have time for filler fluff: to talk for the sake of talking. He didn't give a single shit about the weather.

These two, however, were none of that.

Cooper was wickedly clever in a quiet, understated way that he exposed in little hints and peeks.  The other Pilot wasn't shy, exactly, but he kept his cards close to his chest. Blisk found it a terribly entertaining challenge to coax the younger man's wit into daylight. 

BT, meanwhile, was utterly brilliant.  

Blisk actually felt a little out of his league with the Titan, which was refreshing in and of itself. It wasn't the kind of book smart that he could chalk up to mere programming, either.  As Titans went, BT was old, and wise beyond anything Blisk had previously experienced with an AI. Red was close, yes, but BT was several long steps ahead of his Legion. Blisk suspected he always would be. 

The Vanguard really made him miss his own Titan.

"Kuben?" Blisk looked up to see BT staring back at him. He'd fallen into a contemplative silence, drifting away from the conversation on accident. "Are you alright?" 

BT was also unfairly observant, in Blisk's opinion.

"Jus' got ta thinkin' bout Red," he answered honestly.  Some time through the day, he'd dropped his guard completely with them. It... felt nice. It was nice to relax. 

"Your Legion," BT rumbled.  "I'm sorry for your loss," he went on, leaning back in surprise when Blisk chuckled softly.

"Nah, don't be. He's fine," Cooper now turned to look at him curiously as well. "Got 'im all backed up at home," Blisk explained.  "He'll be a little confused an' cranky for a bit, but once we get th' Link fixed, we'll be fine. Ain't th' first time this's happened." 

Cooper and BT exchanged a poignant look. It dawned on Blisk that they might not have such fail-safes in place.

"Tell ya what," Blisk offered.  "Ah'll share th' backup program if you two give me a few hints on how Ah kin get Red inta a little bit lighter frame, yeah?" He nudged BT's arm gently for emphasis. 

He watched BT's optic change, the color flaring up into an almost blindingly bright white before dimming dramatically back into a rich Caribbean blue. Blisk found himself smiling back in awe as he again admired how expressive the bot was.  

"The technical details of this frame," BT rumbled warmly, "are proprietary to its designer, but if you have access to something like a Stalker or Spectre frame, the changes needed to accommodate a Titan Datacore and OS are minimal and very simple. If you don't have something for Red on hand, I would still gladly share the procedure with you, nonetheless. I'm certain you're clever enough to be able to put it to your own use later."

"Actually, Ah do," Blisk said, his smile broadening a little further.  He'd already been fiddling with such a concept in his limited spare time, but he wasn’t knowledgeable about programming like Red was.  "You kin get him all hooked up an' he'll write ya a copy a his Phoenix program." He didn't try to hide the eagerness in his voice. He'd forgotten he and they were enemies. Technically. His guard had dropped completely, and all he could think of was how badly he missed Red, and how happy he was to have something of value to barter with that could get the Legion back to him so soon.  

It was unlikely, Blisk realized, that he would be procuring a chassis for the big guy any time soon. Times were hard, and after this last loss, it wasn’t likely the IMC would be just giving away replacements. The bar was oh so terribly low, but he hadn't been this happy, or at ease, in an episodically long time. 

"Splendid!" BT rumbled, his optic flaring in another of his smiles, flickering when Blisk grinned back. 

 

BT and Blisk proceeded to chat up a storm, the Vanguard gently coaxing the mercenary to open up with increasing ease.  Jack, however, got quieter and quieter. He smiled sweetly, listening intently as Blisk started to actually ramble, going on about his Legion.  Red, it would seem, was something of a goofball: soft-hearted and gentle in a way that Blisk claimed was catastrophically bad for business, but also seemed to adore though neither of them could get him to actually admit it. They learned that Red had written his own backup program, that he'd put his fist through the outer wall of the emergency wing of an IMC hospital to save Blisk's life shortly after they'd linked. That his moral compass was strong and drove him to constantly challenge his Pilot about what they did and why.  That he was fascinated with the concept of cooking. For the last nearly eight years, Red had been the mercenary's sole companion and ally, for better or worse. 

Blisk could call the Legion an 'idiot' and 'daft oaf' all he wanted, but it was all too clear to Jack that Blisk's Titan was his treasured friend, in the least. There was no hiding it, not really, when the mercenary lit up so just talking about him. 

Not just light up, Jack thought.  Blisk transformed into someone nearly unrecognizable from the burnt-out, defeated man they'd picked up the day before. Some of the color and light returned to his pale eyes.  So many of the deep stress lines creasing his face vanished, though the skin around his eyes still crinkled merrily when he laughed. The line of his shoulders had softened, as had the set of his jaw. 

It was mesmerizing, and Jack caught himself staring far more often than he should have. 

Twice he startled and had to look away as BT seemed to make direct eye-contact with him over Blisk's shoulder, the Titan flickering knowingly and chuckling silently at his Pilot down the Neural Link. Jack sank into his seat, withdrawing and trying to find something other than the very dangerous and alarmingly handsome man seated just behind him to capture his attentio n. There wasn’t much available, and BT continued to giggle and relentlessly tease him through the Link.

It was going to be a long trip to Bohr. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why must I chose a rare/crack-pair in a niche fandom to throw my best attempt at a professional effort at?!   
> Big love to those of you commenting. <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rock, meet bottom.

\--6–

Blisk resisted sleeping.  It had been a nice day. A far nicer day than any day he could think of in… well, he wasn’t sure. Too long for even his particularly keen memory to grasp. He hadn’t even done anything. He’d simply sat, and talked nicely with people who weirdly maybe didn’t hate him and certainly didn’t want him dead.  Blisk was old enough to know that, especially in his line of work, you didn’t let go of the nice things lightly. And so, tonight, he clung to them. Pitifully.

Admittedly, he also wasn’t too keen on any more repeats of the night before, either. He was pretty certain from experience, that that’s what was going to happen as soon as sleep took him, too. 

And so, Blisk had lain awake, nested up under his indulgent mountain of on-loan blankets, and had tried to focus on the positive long into the night.

Too long, in fact.

 

It was a subtle sound, and if it hadn’t been the dead of night with the ship nearly silent, he probably wouldn’t have ever even noticed. As it was, he  _ did _ notice and was simply unable to ignore the unmistakably distinct sounds of lovemaking from down the hall.  Jack Cooper, it turned out, was a pretty expressive guy in bed despite his reserved demeanor by day. Blisk might have been able to convince himself the other Pilot was dreaming or going solo at first if he hadn’t heard him issue some very specific exclamations and demands. Expressive, but not loud. Unfortunately for Blisk, the timbre of the younger man's voice was just so that it carried beautifully and try as he might, Blisk was unable to tune it out.

He was a pragmatic man. He'd overheard, walked in on, and even been a voyeur to people of all walks and interests fucking.  Hell, this wasn't even the first time he'd caught someone shacked up with a Titan, although this was certainly a significantly different twist to that scenario. Once or twice, he’d even gotten involved. The rest of the time he’d shrugged it off and moved on unaffected.  At worst, he'd slink off to rub one out, and then it was a forgotten issue. He did not, in short, give a single shit about what people did with their bodies and their free time. 

Despite this, somehow, Cooper's pretty little noises shook him.

Cooper had an air of innocence about him that made it terribly difficult for Blisk to reconcile with the knowledge that the other Pilot was getting plowed - repeatedly too, from the sound of things- just down the hall. It didn't matter, Blisk staunchly reminded himself, what the Pilot did with whom.  Unfortunately, Cooper was turning into a bigger and bigger puzzle for Blisk to solve, and with his attention already zeroed in on the other man, he could  _ not _ redirect his attention from the soft moans and sighs floating down the hall. At least this satisfied his suspicion that Cooper and BT were an item, he thought. 

He shivered, pulling the blankets up over his head as things got minutely louder as what he thought was Round Three drew to a close. He hated himself for realizing Cooper had achieved more orgasms over the last hour than Blisk had in the last month.  Never mind the last time he'd actually  _ been  _ with someone. He was almost a decade away from his last relationship, and his heart had become so malnourished and shriveled that he didn't even bother buying companionship any longer, let alone seek out something more genuine. He rolled over, face down into the bed, and adamantly ignored his body's reaction to the noises.  If he could ignore that, the little gremlins in his head suggested, maybe he could ignore how terribly he longed for what Cooper had. 

No, not the partner with a knack for the elusive multiple male orgasms, but a partner at all. One entire other being that  _ cared _ .

The bar was so, so low. 

Things finally quieted down: three rounds over an hour and twenty minutes after they'd started.

Blisk didn't sleep a wink that night. 

 

To Blisk’s relief, no one came to check on him the next morning, and Blisk stayed put as long as possible.  He just couldn’t bear to face the confirmed lovers. Luckily, BT and Cooper were kind enough not to say anything when Blisk eventually emerged from hiding looking haggard and dark-eyed. He knew them well enough by now to be certain they noticed the billboard-sized signs of insomnia and was grateful not to have it pointed out to him again.

They were probably just happy he hadn’t woken them up screaming bloody murder in the darkest hours of the night again… Which was only the case because Blisk had not slept at all.  

Strange ghosts had haunted him, keeping him awake.  

Blankets, too plush, and too warm, had made his skin crawl as he still struggled to grasp why these men would offer him comfort. The dull aches that were all that remained of near-deadly wounds, and the sharper pang of realizing that once again, the sweet release of oblivion had slipped his grasp. 

The high, strained cries of a man too kind and too gentle for his own good, in beautiful agony. 

There was no way he was going to be able to look Cooper in the eye, now. 

Especially now as he stood in the shower, panting silently and watching the sticky streaks slide down the wall as the evidence of his fleeting moment of relief was rinsed away. 

The ship shuddered and groaned briefly as, with Blisk still in the shower, they made their last jump to Bohr. Groaning softly in defeat, Blisk made sure his mess was gone before finishing up bathing.  

By the time he made it up to the cockpit, dressed and looking only marginally fresher than he felt, the mudball he sometimes called home filled the viewport. 

"Good morning," BT rumbled, turning back to give Blisk a friendly flicker as he heard him approach. Blisk's lips twitched. It wasn't morning anymore.  BT knew that. While they three had gotten pretty comfortable with the good-natured banter and razzing the day before, he didn't take the bait of BT's little tease this time. He was too lost in himself today to play along.  Instead, he murmured a quiet greeting and reclaimed his spot in the jumpseat behind the Titan. BT gave him another flicker and didn’t issue further comment, for which Blisk was grateful. Cooper glanced back as he settled in to watch their approach, offering Blisk a somewhat awkward smile, but then focused his attention back outside.

 

There wasn't a single scrap of Bohr that wasn't gray, grungy and simply put...fucking ugly. From orbit, it was scarred and a muddled gray-brown that looked utterly lifeless. It made Jack a little depressed just to look at it.  It reminded him of their last battle: washed out, half-demolished and completely devoid of joy. It could sustain life - the sparse flora of the planet and even scarcer indigenous fauna were all the same shade of brownish-gray or grayish-brown as the rest of the rock - but only barely. Nothing flourished.

The capital city, unnamed and threadbare, was home to eighty percent of the planet's meager population, and every soul down there seemed to match their home of choice perfectly.  Dirty, dour; it was full of lost souls who were just a shade too rough, too desperate, to fit in anywhere else. Jack reckoned the populace of Bohr at large was likely mostly people who had a habit of self-punishment. Otherwise, they’d leave.

Tired, dried-out, and defeated, Blisk fit right in. Jack wished they could bring him somewhere better, but this is where the merc had asked to be taken, so here they brought him. 

“Are you sure this is where you want to go?” He asked, just to be certain.  “I can understand not wanting to expose your home base, but I’d hope by now you know you can trust us.”

Blisk gave Jack a surprisingly soft look, the almost-smile making the younger Pilot’s heart cartwheel, but then shook his head.

“Nah.  This’s th’ place.  Got Red backed up here.” Like his expression, the merc’s tone was uncommonly soft, and Jack had needed to look away.  

“If you need a lift after that…” Jack began but Blisk shook his head again. 

“Ah’m good.  ‘Sides, this ain’t a good place fer decent folk ta linger, Cooper, an’  _ Ah _ ain’t a face ya wanna be seen with.  Even by th’ trash livin’ on this shithole.   _ Especially _ this trash, actually.”  Jack opened his mouth to argue but BT cut in.

“Agreed.  You and Blisk have worked out a deal for your mutual safety, but you still have a considerable bounty on you, Jack,” BT rumbled, earning himself a look of approval from Blisk.  “It won’t do for us to venture far, or linger.” Jack nodded, silently accepting defeat. They fell into a comfortable silence as they descended through the atmosphere, BT making a flawless approach, but Jack’s mind was full of noise as he contemplated the man seated behind them. 

 

The starport was, for Bohr, bustling.  Three other ships sat on the cracked and weedy ramp when BT brought their little transport down, and across the way, a trio of particularly seedy-looking individuals stopped their work unloading a heavy-looking crate to watch them land.  

"This's fine," Blisk mumbled from Cooper's shoulder, having watched their descent in silence.  "Jus open up and Ah'll be on my way." Outside, the men had abandoned the crate and were heading their way. "Th' sooner th' betta," Blisk added warily.  BT got everything shut down and stood, gently nudging Blisk back to clear the way.  

"We'll see you off," the Titan said, in direct disregard to Blisk’s and his own warnings.  He gave Cooper a poignant glance as he squeezed past Blisk. The younger Pilot nodded, pulling a pistol out from a stowage at his thigh in the copilot's seat. 

"Looks like trouble," he said.  

That Blisk didn’t argue was telling. 

"Here," BT paused and reached into a weapons locker in the bulkhead, arming himself and producing Blisk's confiscated  _ Wingman _ .  It'd been meticulously cleaned and re-loaded.  Blisk blinked down at the proffered weapon. He hadn't forgotten BT had taken it, but he certainly hadn't expected it to be returned.  The merc took the offering, staring levelly into BT's bright optic for a moment, then, a little reluctantly, smiled with unprecedented warmth. 

"Thanks," he said earnestly, checking the safety then turning it over in his hands to look it over. He kept it well maintained, but BT had practically overhauled it.  "Beautiful work," he complimented. BT let out a soft hum of satisfaction.  

"You're welcome. And thank you." There was a big smile in his voice, and Blisk's own grin widened a little.  He reached out with his free hand, shaking BT's.  

"Ah really appreciate what you two've done for me," Blisk went on, glancing back to Cooper who was hanging behind a few steps.  "With any luck, you'll nev'a see me again... but if ya do... Ah'll remember, same as you did." 

BT chuckled softly.  "I'm glad to hear that," he said.  From at Blisk's back, Cooper had fallen terribly quiet.  BT flickered reassuringly at his Pilot but made no comment as he led them all into the cargo bay, opening the door and dropping the ramp.  

 

Their greeting committee was waiting for them. 

"Da fuck?"  At least one man recognized Blisk, his surly smile turning absolutely venomous.  "Kuben Blisk and..." His beady eyes slid past Blisk to Jack and widened. "Oh ho! Finally got that bounty?!" 

Blisk puffed up immediately, his shoulders squaring defensively, and he took one long step to put him well ahead of BT and Jack as they descended the ramp. 

"Who th' fuck're you?" He growled, "'An' why ain't ya gone yet?" He still had his weapon in hand, but kept it down at his thigh, his fingers brushing off the safety warily. 

"Well we just thought we'd have a look at this purdy little ship here," the stranger said.  "Figured even if there ain't any cargo, the avionics would be worth somethin. Didn't 'speckt to find a Dead 'r Alive bounty come walkin' out!" His eyes fixed on Jack, who blanched.

"Buzz off!" Blisk snapped, brandishing his weapon and somehow managing to inflate even more, his imposing silhouette towering over the other men.  "Yer outta yer league." 

 

It didn't seem like anyone noticed the man in the back raise his weapon. Jack certainly hadn't but Blisk must have because a split moment before the resounding bang echoed across the tarmac, the big merc was moving, throwing himself to the side with a shout. At Jack's elbow, BT burst into motion as well, his hand snapping up to level his own sidearm. The three laser shots he fired were so rapid it almost sounded like a single, slightly prolonged snap-hiss. Four men fell. All three of their would-be assailants collapsed backward like felled trees with burned-out holes between their eyes. A heartbeat later Blisk staggered back a step and crumpled into a heap at Jack's feet.

"Kuben!" Jack dropped to his knees, helping Blisk roll onto his back.  The older Pilot’s face screwed up into a pained grimace and his eyes clamped shut.  He still held his gun in his right hand, but his left was clutched over his ribs, his fingertips wet with fresh blood. 

"Move over, Jack," BT said softly, sparing the felled thugs a brief glance to ensure no one else would be bothering them and then crouched beside Jack and Blisk. Blisk was starting to pant and cough, and let out a pained yelp as BT slid his hands under his knees and shoulders, lifting him effortlessly. "Easy Kuben," BT rumbled soothingly.  "You're going to be alright." He was already heading back into the ship with long, steady strides. "Get us back in orbit, Jack," He instructed, calm and confident even as Jack shot him a wild-eyed, worried look, hesitating. "We are not safe here, and I don't have time to explain this any of this to potential witnesses if you want me to help him," the Titan explained.  Jack nodded, slapping the bay door shut behind them and dashing down the hall to the cockpit.

BT promptly carried Blisk back to the med bay - again- but laid him out on the gurney much more gently this time.  Blisk was alert, and though his face was twisted in pain he watched BT closely. There was a bump and a rumble as Jack got them airborne, cutting a fast retreat back to the safety of space. BT nudged Blisk’s hand away and peeled Blisk’s shirt up, exposing the wound so that he could examine it.  "Don't worry," BT told Blisk as he pulled out the triage kit - again. "I saw what you did. I won't let you die." Blisk looked away.

"Mebbe you should," he muttered, then gasped sharply as BT prodded the bullet wound.  Being shot never tickled but this one was particularly painful. 

"Perhaps," BT agreed. "But the past is behind us now.  If you want to die, you’re going to have to find a different solution because I’m not helping." He paused, noticing that although Blisk usually hid his pain, he wasn't coping well this time.  His hand was back on the wound, fingers trembling, and his face was getting paler by the minute. "This will be easier on both of us," he offered, "if you allow me to sedate you." 

He chose the words to his offer carefully.  It hadn't taken much observing to recognize that Blisk was deeply invested in maintaining control of his own agency at all times. He was the kind of man that kept his back to the wall, constantly on the defense. Just in their few days together, he'd rejected pain relievers when he was in agony and calming sedatives when he was in crisis, not wanting to compromise his cognitive ability and awareness of his surroundings, even when BT and Jack had gone to great lengths to prove to the mercenary that he was safe. Blisk was utterly, rightfully, paranoid for his well-being. 

Blisk looked back at BT, realizing that the Vanguard had noticed all of this, and the consideration he was offering him.  After a moment's thought, he nodded and offered his arm to the Titan.

"Yeah, okay." 

BT flickered at Blisk and quickly loaded an autoinjector. 

"This is a small dose. You shouldn't be out for more than an hour, but it'll be plenty of time for me to get you patched up," he told him. Blisk nodded, and BT gave his hand a firm squeeze with one hand while he administered the sedative with the other.  Blisk flashed him a little smile and then sighed as he slipped from consciousness almost immediately.

Even knocked out, Blisk held his wound, and BT nudged his hand away with a soft chuckle and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll didn't think I'd give him THAT much of a break, did you?
> 
> I could have waited a few more days and spit-polished this chapter a little more, perhaps, but I'm an impatient bastard and I'm cranky tonight so I'm doing something that makes me happy.   
> This is likely to bite us all in the ass later when I have to wait longer to publish later chapters because I'm not as ahead in content-production as I prefer to be. YOLO.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blisk has chest pains. Jack makes some questionable decisions.

\--7--

BT disappeared back into the med bay with Blisk, and Jack hustled up to the cockpit.  They’d picked a ship that could operate with a crew of one for a reason, and within minutes he had them airborne again without difficulty.  Soon enough, they broke atmosphere, and then orbit, and then, just to be safe, he jumped them to another nearby system. He didn’t think anyone had bothered to pursue them - or even noticed the altercation back on the ground, but their ship was unarmed and he couldn’t risk it.  

Finally, drifting in the black of deep space once more, Jack sat back and let some of the nervous tension leave him with a long puff of air.

It had hardly been the first, nor likely the last, time someone had taken a shot at him.  He was a veteran soldier, with a literal planetary kill count, with a planet-sized bounty on his head for five years and counting.  As soft and gentle-hearted as he could be when he chose to, Jack was not weak, nor naive, nor easily rattled. He was a master of the ‘deal now, panic later’ mindset, which was probably how he’d survived Typhon. For the moment, however, “later” had finally arrived, and poor Jack was doing emotional cartwheels.  

He’d been shot at plenty, but this was the first time someone else had physically put their body between his and a bullet.  Rationally, he supposed Blisk rather owed it to him, but Jack didn’t work like that. He didn’t want to be shot, of course, but as vile as Blisk was, he didn’t want him shot, either. He didn’t want anyone shot.

He really did want this war over with.

But that wasn’t the thing that had him so terribly shaken about the shootout he’d just survived. What rattled him, what made his heart hammer and his stomach do little flips and flops, both of which, by the way, were somewhere high up in his throat where neither belonged, was the very different type of fear that had been instilled in him.  

It had been all over before he’d had the opportunity to fear for his life, but the moment Blisk had hit the ground, a hard shock like lightning had coursed down his spine and exploded through his heart. It had sucked the breath out of his lungs and turned his fingers cold to see Blisk’s face screwed up in genuine agony.  And fear. As tough and fearless as he liked to act, Blisk seemed particularly mindful of his own mortality. Jack supposed whatever was waiting for him in the afterlife would not be pleasant. The sight of that mingled fear and pain, the shock of red coating his fingertips, had struck Jack hard.  

He didn’t want to lose Blisk.

_ Lose _ .

Jack groaned, hiding his face in his hands.  

Heaven help him, he was in trouble. 

BT was down the hall, working with stony determination to ensure Blisk survived, but Jack felt the sudden brush of the Titan’s presence across his mind like a caress. The Neural Link was strong enough between them that they could share thoughts as easily as though they were a single mind.  BT stayed nestled close, almost as if he was perched on Jack’s shoulder, almost constantly. He hadn’t missed Jack’s little infatuation with Blisk, but instead of attempting to smother it, or express jealousy, he’d simply giggled and teased Jack. Now, however, as Jack sifted through his thoughts, the Titan had noticed that things had changed.  This was no longer some fleeting crush over a handsome face.

_ Did he really do what I think he did? _ Jack asked, gazing out into the starfield beyond the cockpit.

_ He most undoubtedly did.  Don’t worry, _ BT replied, sending Jack a wash of love that made the Pilot’s heart swell, a smile breaking out over his stressed features.  _ He’ll survive.   _ BT’s voice in his mind was even smoother and richer than in person, and that alone helped to soothe Jack. 

With that, BT left him alone again, pulling back to nothing but a watchful presence again as he let Jack sort through his thoughts unhindered.  Left to his thoughts once more, Jack’s mind tumbled. 

 

Blisk’s eyes opened before he woke, unseeing and out of focus as his brain slogged its way out of the molasses-thick sludge of chemically-induced unconsciousness.  For what felt like years, he simply watched the blurry yellow glow of dancing lights, unfeeling and thoughtless as they gradually resolved into the illumination panels in the med-bay ceiling. Slowly -oh, so terribly slowly- sensation, regretfully, returned.  The familiar ache of a bullet-wound, deeper than he thought possible, throbbed hotly through his ribs. Sound filtered in. Blisk heard himself let out a high, pained whine from deep in his chest.  

What… what had happened  _ this _ time?  He couldn’t think and fumbled to assemble the memories.  A battle. A loss. Cooper and his Titan… Bohr…

Oh. 

All at once the fog cleared and the thoughts and memories lined up together like dominoes.

He groaned softly, raising shaking hands -at least he wasn’t handcuffed this time - and rubbed his face, trying to clear the sleep away.  

Breathing, at least, didn't hurt so much anymore, but his whole chest felt like it’d been stepped on by a Titan. His whole right side felt like that time he'd gotten a pneumatic door shut on his hand when he was twelve.  Not a bone had broken but the whole thing turned a deep black and purple and had ached for a month. It was just like that, but a thousand times worse. " _ Fuck _ ," He wheezed, that single syllable loaded with pain and frustration.  He was back on the gurney, back in pain, and BT was back in his spot propped against the doorframe watching him.  Again. Blisk rolled his head to the side to stare blearily back at the Titan, somehow knowing he’d be there before he actually spotted him. 

"Welcome back," BT rumbled, pushing away and padding over to stand at Blisk's side.  Blisk risked an attempt at sitting up, only to immediately get leveraged back down before he'd even lifted his chin. "Don't do that," BT said firmly, keeping his hand on Blisk's shoulder until he was certain the merc had dropped the idea.  "You've got a punctured lung and a broken rib. I  _ highly _ recommend you give the nanites a few more hours to do their work." 

Blisk sighed, grumbling just a little but nodding in ascent and settling down. 

"Great," he croaked.  BT chuckled.

"Having regrets?" The Titan asked, dropping his voice.

"Bout whut?" Blisk said, a little too quickly.  BT replicated a loud snort, tossing his head in mock exasperation.

"I'm a  _ Titan _ , Kuben.  I've run through the footage of our little confrontation down there enough times to know if you hadn't taken that bullet, Jack would have been shot clean through the heart." BT looked back down at Blisk, his optic shuttered partially in a critical squint.  "Battle computer data suggests he would have been killed instantly." 

Blisk looked away again.

"No. No regrets," he muttered.  "Pearls over swine and all," he added with a little snort of his own that set his chest throbbing angrily. "Goddamn," he gasped, clutching at the bandaged wound. "Jus... don't tell 'im, yeah?" Blisk said when he'd recovered again. BT laughed.  He held out his hand, presenting the twisted slug of metal he’d extracted from Blisk’s body. It had been washed clean of his blood and seemed so small and benign now. 

"Too late. Besides, he's more clever than he likes to let on. He'd already figured it out anyway by the time I mentioned it," BT said. 

Blisk looked surprisingly crestfallen.

"Oh." He took the bullet, turning it over in his fingers, examining it. 

"He wants to see you something fierce," BT went on, not bothering to dwell on nor question why Blisk might have wanted to conceal his act of heroism.  "I haven't let him in at all." He tilted his head, flickering knowingly. "I don't want you overwhelmed." There was the faintest warning in his words, but Blisk only sighed and nodded. 

 "Let him in, if tha's what he wants," Blisk said. "But help me sit up first." BT didn't mention it, but it was the first time Blisk had directly requested assistance with anything. There had been a distinct dynamic shift between them, it would seem. BT didn't hesitate to help, gathering up a couple of extra pillows from storage to prop Blisk somewhat upright. It wasn't an easy task, and by the time he was settled again, Blisk had turned pale and a bit clammy.  

"Do you want something for the pain?"  BT didn't expect that he did, but it was worth mentioning. "I haven't administered anything since you've previously declined." 

"Yeah, but after Ah'm done talkin' with Jack, mebbe," Blisk said, wincing.  BT nodded.

"Very well." Things had  _ definitely _ changed. He glanced at the door.  Jack wasn't waiting immediately outside, but he wasn't far.

"Yeah let 'im in," Blisk said, rubbing some life back into the skin of his face with both hands, and pausing to glance at his fingers, then further down at himself.  BT had laundered the blood from his shirt and dressed him again while he was out. He’d even scrubbed the blood out of his fingernails. The Titan had an attention to detail he was appreciating more and more. 

BT nodded, even though Blisk wasn't looking, and went to the door, opening it and stepping out.  Blisk could hear the soft murmur of the bot's silken baritone, and though he didn't catch all of what he was saying, he definitely heard BT tell Jack, "Go easy, he's in a lot of pain still." That kind of announcement would have usually annoyed Blisk, but this time, he was sore enough to be grateful.

Moments later, Jack appeared in the doorway, his expression a jumble with worry. Blisk said nothing but after a moment of watching the younger Pilot, offered a tiny, tired smile in greeting. It seemed that was the signal Jack had been waiting for and he rushed through the room to Blisk's side.

"Oh thank God!" 

Before Blisk could do a thing about it, Jack had his arms around him, hugging his head and shoulders hard enough to make his own arms shake.  Blisk sucked in a hard breath, startled, but didn't resist.  

"Glad yer awright, Kid," he said instead, listening to how his voice muffled against Jack's chest and raising one hand to pat at Jack's elbow reassuringly. 

"You took that bullet for me," Jack said accusingly.  He hadn't let go, and Blisk had the suspicion he'd be holding on for as long as he could get away with. 

"Better me 'n you," Blisk countered gruffly, and Jack finally pulled back to look him in the eye.

"I don't believe that, but thank you," Jack said softly. He wore the sweetest smile as Blisk shrugged the gratitude away.  

"Th' world needs more a you an' less a me," he said.  "An’ Ah won't say Ah regret how it went down, but Ah'm a little disappointed ya didn't jus let me die when ya had th' chance." He said it simply, without blame or longing, his voice and his gaze as even and factual as if he were reciting his birth date.  

"We don't operate like that," Jack said, aghast.  Blisk replied with a bittersweet smile.

"Ah know. Tha's why we need more a you."  Jack's face lit up at the little smile, the color in his cheeks brightening just slightly.  It was just enough of a warning for the ever-observant merc to have a hand up when the other Pilot suddenly leaned in far too close.  Blisk stopped Jack’s sudden attempt to kiss him with two fingers pressed to his chin. "Nuh uh, none a that," he murmured, gently pushing Jack back a couple of inches.  "Your lips will rot off." He tried to keep his voice light, gently teasing even, to soften the rejection. "You kin do so much better for yourself," he added firmly, moving his hand to Jack's chest to ease him further back to a polite distance. Jack's body through his shirt was warm under his palm. Blisk almost couldn't take his hand away. Jack relented, his eyes wide and vulnerable with shock. 

"You really hate yourself that much?" Jack said, the immediate hurt giving way to sympathy.    

"Yeah," Blisk said roughly. "An' you should too." It was just facts, he reasoned. Jack's mouth opened, the Pilot winding up for a protest, but Blisk cut him off at the pass. "Nuh uh!" Jack's mouth snapped shut. "Jus' cause Ah did ya a solid doesn't change  _ anythin _ about me, yeah? This ain't somethin' special. It ain't like Ah've never done a single good deed in my life.  Ah've done plenty, but that doesn't negate all th'  _ rotten _ shit Ah've done. Even if it was pure one-ta-one math, the bad's still  _ worse _ and you're a sweet guy so Ah'm refusin' ta let ya forget that. Got it?" His voice shook ever so faintly, but his eyes burned with determination as he spoke, Blisk desperately willing Jack to see things his way. "We've had a good couple a days but you don't  _ know _ me," he added, pleading. 

He watched the gamut of emotions shift across Jack's face from surprise to dismay, denial and then bitter hurt.  Over the Pilot's shoulder, he could see BT lingering by the door, watching carefully. Jack's face twisted into a sulk.

"I don't care about that," he muttered bitterly, looking down at his feet sullenly. 

"Yeah, well Ah do." 

"You care!" Jack declared as if he'd uncovered some secret evidence against him. 

"Ah do!" Blisk snapped, frustrated.  This wasn't easy for him. Jack had to be able to see that. His heart was aching enough to eclipse the pain in his ribs.  He wanted to scream. That one, beautiful, precious thing he wanted so badly had just been chucked at his feet, but he didn’t dare take it.  Jack was stubbornly leaning in for another try. Blisk didn’t put his hand on Jack this time, but he did press back into the pillows as he felt Jack’s breath on his lips.  "Ah said  _ no _ , Jack," he said, his tone turning hard.

“ _ Please _ ,” Jack moaned, not backing down.  Blisk could feel the heat radiating off of Jack’s body, and his throat closed. He didn’t think he could say no a third time.  “Just once…?” 

" _ Jack. _ "  BT finally spoke up from the door.  His voice was as hushed and calm as ever, but there was a commanding edge to how he said his Pilot's name, and Jack recoiled.  Blisk watched miserably as Jack's expression turned distraught as he backed away. Relief and disappointment mixed together into thick sludge in Blisk’s throat, and it took a few tries for him to find his voice again. 

"If Ah  _ didn't _ care, you'd get your way, and you'd be damned sorry later," Blisk said quietly. Something dark and angry passed through Jack's eyes a split second before he turned on his heel with a curt nod, and hurried out of the room.

BT stayed behind, watching him go.  Blisk groaned, burying his face in his hands as he sank down where he sat in defeat.

"Fuck."

"I'm sorry," BT murmured, coming to stand in Jack's place at Blisk's side. "I knew he'd become fascinated by you but I didn't anticipate him being so bold."  Blisk said nothing, his mind racing. Yeah. It explained a lot, he supposed. "He's terribly lonesome," BT added, looking back towards the door. "I can't always give him everything he needs..." He trailed off, but Blisk could fill in the blanks easily enough. It had been a very, very long time since he'd shared a genuine moment of passion with anyone, let alone been kissed.  The ache of longing was a deep one. 

"You will soon though," He told BT knowingly.  The bot nodded. 

"Hopefully." 

"Then he'll manage," Blisk said glumly. 

"You don't think you could change?" BT asked.  It was a gentle question, one of honest curiosity.  Blisk shrugged.

"It's not that," he said, frowning thoughtfully. "It's jus'..." He sighed, the single breath heavy. "Well, Ah've already changed, haven't I? It's... not that." He looked away, unable to face the Vanguard's alarmingly perceptive stare. 

BT let it go with a nod of acceptance. 

"Do you still want something for the pain?" He asked instead.  Blisk frowned.

"No.  Afraid Ah'll go an' do somethin' stupid," Blisk groaned, sliding further down where he sat until he was prone once more.  BT was still staring at him thoughtfully and Blisk frowned a little at him. "You think Ah'm wrong?" He asked after a moment, and he tried so hard not to take a defensive tone but he did anyway.  BT shrugged.

"Not exactly," BT said but offered no more.  Instead, he turned away. "Jack needs me," he said.  "Speak up if you need anything." He was at the door by then and turned to give one last friendly flicker at Blisk before he vanished out the door. "Thank you, again." 

 

BT found Jack in their berth, sat up in the far corner hugging a pillow.  He looked stunned, upset, and a little angry. When he noticed BT's arrival, his expression shifted to guilt.

"BT, what have I done?" Jack asked softly.  BT didn't breathe, but he replicated a long sigh anyway and crawled up onto the bed to sit beside his Pilot. 

"You shook Blisk real hard, is what you did," BT said after a moment. "Are you alright, Jack?" He pressed, far more interested in Jack's well-being than the merc's.  

"No," Jack confessed.  "It hurts. More than I expected.  I didn't think-"

"That he'd turn you away?" BT asked, flickering knowingly.

"-that I wanted it that bad," Jack finished, looking away. 

"He believes he's acting in your best interest," BT said, and Jack hunched up, hiding his face. 

"He does care, then..."

"I would have thought that became evident when he deliberately took a bullet for you, Jack," BT chuckled.

Jack did not look reassured.

"What do I do, BT?" Jack sighed, looking more forlorn than ever. BT let out a low rumble, soft and soothing, and pulled Jack close, cradling him against his chest.  

"Nothing," BT said simply.  "You can't force romance out of anyone, and I get the feeling that Blisk, most of all, would only retaliate if he felt he was being coerced into anything."  Jack nodded in glum agreement. It wasn't the answer he wanted, but he certainly couldn't argue the Vanguard's point. "Though I wonder," BT went on, voice low, "If, with time, he'll return to you." Jack's head jerked up from where he'd been staring into his lap, eyes wide as he stared back at BT in surprise.  "As I said," BT's smile radiated in his voice and the hue of his optic. "You've shaken him. And he  _ does _ care. Immensely." 

For a few minutes, Jack was speechless as his mind raced.  "What would you do, I wonder," BT went on, his voice still sunshine warm.  "If he did. You two live utterly incompatible lives." Jack's shoulders hitched up around his shoulders in chagrin.  He realized too late that he was probably imagining the potential - that the power of love, or whatever, would be able to change a man such as Blisk.  BT made a soft noise of understanding. He could see well enough into Jack's head to know Jack had just had his painful moment of clarity. " _ That's _ what he's protecting you from," BT whispered.  "I'm certain of it."

Jack, however, couldn't let it drop.  He was smitten: had been quite possibly from the start, the Titan realized, and instead of trying to cope with the rejection, and the truth of their situation, he was trying to  _ solve _ it.

"We... we can add another unit at home... nobody'd ask... people are telling us our place is too small anyway, right?  We could all retire and have whatever we wanted for decades, no problem. Harmony is  _ quiet...  _ nobody comes by...we could... we..."

" _ Jack. _ "  BT said nothing else, and Jack quelled with a deep grimace.  

What was he thinking? It's not like he could just...what? Keep Blisk under his bed?  Hide him away from an entire planet...  _ The Militia _ ? He was a human being, no matter how hard he tried not to be, and one who would not survive, let alone thrive, without freedom or agency. Jack loved their home. It was his sanctuary, his hideaway from the universe where he could live and love unhindered, but for Blisk, it would only be a gilded cage, at best. He tried to picture Blisk on Harmony: in his garden, or even cleaning guns in the workshop, but he simply couldn’t.  Blisk didn’t belong with him.

"Sorry," Jack muttered.  For what, exactly, he didn't specify. He was sorry for a lot of things.

"If you're going to go apologizing to someone, it shouldn't be me," BT said evenly.  Jack was completely silent for a long moment, holding his breath and fumbling for composure.  When he finally let the air he'd been holding out, his voice shook around it. He wiggled free of BT's embrace, somewhat shakily sliding off the bed.  

"You're right." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kubie's a fucking idiot, but he means well, at least. Come to think of it, same with Jack.   
> ("Now //KISS//!")
> 
> ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩f You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, your reviews will surely show it!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That could have gone worse...

\--8--

He wasn't crying...but he thought he might feel better if he did. Blisk had pulled the pillow out from under his head to instead crush it down over his face anyway, and though he didn't quite scream into it either, it definitely muffled a few frustrated groans. More importantly, it made it easier to block out everything else.  Half-smothered, with his vision blacked out, he had to focus on breathing and could forget where he was and whom he was with. He even managed to do a little better job of ignoring the throbbing ache in his ribs.  

It was probably for the better that he couldn't bring himself to cry, he mused grimly, if he had a freshly treated bullet wound in his lung. He shifted his grip on the pillow.  It still covered his face, but now he hugged it to his chest, crushing it down against him as hard as he could bear. Jack had hugged him nearly as hard, in relief, not a half-hour ago. 

Goddamn, it’d been nice, too.  The other man had been warm, and plush against his body in a way that only human contact could create.  Call the firing squad, he thought. He'd take a thousand more bullets for more of that. But that was the problem, wasn't it? He deserved the bullets, yes, but not the hugs.  He stood firm in his decision to push Jack away. Whatever good or rotten things he did in his life, he refused to poison Jack’s well with his vileness. That single sip of water was going to have to do.

 

He didn't hear Jack enter, and still had his pillow crushed down over his face and chest when the younger man spoke up from halfway into the room.

"Kuben?"

Blisk startled, pulling down the pillow and looking sharply over at the other Pilot, but then relaxed somewhat as it registered it was just Jack.

_Just Jack..._

He looked a lot like Blisk felt.  Red-eyed and weary. Distraught.

"I'm sorry," Jack murmured.  "I... Are you alright?"

Blisk turned his head towards him as fully as he could, felt his face twisting up and knew he couldn't hide anything.

"No," Blisk said honestly.  "I'm in pain, Jack," he moaned, letting the ache reach his voice.  "It hurts somethin' awful." Jack looked away. "But Ah wouldn't a done any of it any oth'a way, yeah?" Jack gave him a resigned little nod, staring down at his feet. "Ah'll be alrigh'," Blisk went on.  "But more importantly, so will you." He noticed Jack didn't look entirely convinced. Oof.

"You kin do better," he repeated.  "An' BT's gonna treat you right." Jack looked over at him sharply, surprised, and Blisk couldn't help giving him a flat look. "Ah ain’t deaf," he said, smirking just a little.  Jack blushed hot red and started to stammer as he realized what he meant, but Blisk waved him down. "My point," he ground on, "is you're in good hands. That guy's special, yeah? Hang on ta that."

Jack nodded, a little glumly.  

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.  “I crossed a line with you I shouldn’t have. That’s why I came in here,” he said.  “To apologize. I pushed you unfairly, and I can see it hurts, and I don’t know what is wrong with me that I thought I could do that to you,” he was starting to ramble, upset and miserable as he was.  And also very, genuinely sorry. “I wish you’d change your mind, but I’m glad you put your foot down, regardless.”  
“Apology accepted,” Blisk sighed. “Ah’m not tryin’ ta punish you, Jack.  Ah really believe in this.”   
Jack nodded, chewing his lip.

“I know.  You… you know best,” he said softly.  

"Not really," Blisk confessed. "But Ah know me, yeah? You were seen with me for all a sixy seconds an' someone shot at ya, and even if Ah could erase everythin' Ah've done... Karma's still gonna follow me, an’ Ah can't catch all th' bullets."

Jack fell silent, thinking this over.  There was so much Blisk wasn't saying, but he could hear it anyway, and it all sounded like _I care_. 

At length, he nodded. 

“Th’ rest a th’ world finds me inexcusably repulsive for a very good reason, Jack,” Blisk said. He was watching the other man’s face closely and could see he wasn’t convinced.  “Ah don’t want ta prove it to ya, but whatever you think a me now, you’re wrong. Ah ain’t gonna drag you down ta my level, but you’re not gonna be able ta lift me up ta yours, either. Ah’m sorry.”  He’d taken a page from BT’s book, and very carefully kept his voice low and even. He watched bitter acceptance crawl into Jack’s features and knew the tactic had worked.  

For a long moment, Jack simply stared back at Blisk, his eyes sad. Blisk chewed the inside of his lip, hating the look he was getting, and fumbling for anything that could help.  He offered Jack a tired smile that hung crooked on his face.

“Would a hug help?” He said wryly, halfway between actually offering consolation and joking.

Jack blinked owlishly at him and then broke into manic, broken giggles. Softly, he laughed and laughed, the sound sad and watery, and twice the younger pilot wiped at his eyes tellingly.  At last, he caught his breath.

“Y-yeah?” Jack took a tentative step forward, uncertain whether or not it was a genuine offer.  

It mostly hadn’t been, until Blisk saw the hurt, hopeful look on Jack’s face, and one of the hard, horrible things inside of him softened suddenly.

“C’mere,” Blisk breathed, heaving himself back into a sitting position and extending one arm in invitation. Jack hesitated, inching forward another half-step.  “Hurry up, Kid, sittin’ up hurts like hell,” Blisk added gruffly. Jack nearly ran the last few feet between them and all but dove into Blisk’s arms, though he carefully avoided his injury.  

Jack wound his arms around Blisk’s shoulders and squeezed hard with a quiet, shuddering breath. Blisk brought his own arms up to drape them around the younger man’s middle.  He held on patiently, letting Jack take what he needed, but did nothing to escalate the moment.  

“I’m sorry,” Jack whispered.  “I’m sorry I got you shot, and I’m sorry I cornered you, and I'm sorry for putting you in a hard position,” He spoke quickly so that Blisk couldn’t interrupt him.  “I’m sorry you’ve found yourself in a place you can’t fix, and I’m sorry I can’t help you. I’m sorry you have to live in a place like Bohr and guard against everyone. I’m-”

“Jack.” Blisk whispered the name, and Jack fell silent.  “Jus’ let it go, yeah?” Blisk wanted to tell him he wasn’t broken, that he didn’t need fixing.  Wanted to tell him he was imagining things. Jack’s arms tightened around Blisk’s shoulders. He was warm, and he smelled nice. Blisk couldn’t think of a good lie but eventually, Jack pulled away without asking for one.  To Blisk’s relief, it looked like he’d pulled himself back together. 

“So now what?” Jack asked, taking a half step back as Blisk eased back down onto the bed with a groan.  

“Thas’ up to you,” Blisk sighed.  “If you’re up ta goin’ back ta Bohr,  you kin drop me an’ scram. If you still wanna trade BT’s frame mods for Red’s Phoenix program, my place ain’t far from th’ Port.   If we land in th’ middle a th’ night it’s likely ta be a lot safer. If not- An’ Ah wouldn’t blame ya if ya didn’t- jus...drop me off wherever’s easiest. Ah kin find my way home.  Mebbe thas’ preferable, actually. You’ve done enough for me already, an’ Ah’d really rather not put ya in th’ crosshairs again.” He grimaced as a nasty little shot of pain lanced through his side and chest as he shifted wrong.  “Mebbe there’s an easier way ta swap programming too, without ya bein’ at risk, but Ah can’t think tha’ well righ’ now,” he confessed. 

“I’m not just dumping you off somewhere random,” Jack said, almost sternly.  “I’ll talk with BT. Once you’ve healed, we’ll go back to Bohr. From there, we’ll see.” 

Blisk nodded.  

“You’re th’ boss,” he said, too tired to argue.  Jack nodded in acceptance. 

“I should let you rest,” he said, inching toward the door.  Blisk nodded again. 

“Ah’d ‘preciate it,” he said, his voice suddenly small. “Been shot a bunch a times, but this motherfucker hurts somethin’ ugly.” He didn’t bother trying to hide the pain in his voice. He didn’t have to strength to if he had tried. 

“I’m so sorr-”

“Shaddup about that, Cooper,” Blisk sighed, giving Jack a somewhat forced smile.  “Ah made th’ choice ta do what Ah did all on my own. You don’t get th’ take any a the blame, it’s all mine, yeah?  So paws off.” It was an attempt at a tease, his lopsided and haggard smile strangely sweet. Jack chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“You’re a glutton, Kuben,” he said, far too fondly. 

“Yuhp,” Blisk drawled.  “Get used ta it.” This, of all things, brought Jack’s lovely little smile back. 

“We’ll see.  Is there anything you want, before I leave you alone?” He offered.  He looked genuinely surprised when Blisk nodded.

“Yeah actually.  Kin ya send BT in?” Jack’s smile faltered, and Blisk hurried on to clarify, “Want ‘im ta calculate th’ dosages on some meds fer me.” Jack’s smile crept back, although he looked just a hair embarrassed.  He’d been on his way to having his feelings hurt, Blisk thought. Disaster averted. 

“Sure,” Jack said, his smile brightening back to full glow once more.  Blisk couldn’t resist smiling back. “Enjoy your drugs,” Jack chuckled, walking out.  Blisk snorted, and let his head drop back with a soft sigh and closed his eyes. 

That could have gone worse, he thought. 

 

“Kuben?” 

Blisk jerked awake with a sharp gasp, the abrupt movement making his injuries reignite anew.  A high squeak of pain escaped him, and he curled up into the ache slightly with an oath. He blinked blearily up at BT, who now stood over him, his head cocked in concern.  

“Ow...F-Fuck…!” Blisk wheezed, grimacing up at the bot. “Ah didn’t mean ta’ nod off...” 

“You must be exhausted,” BT said.  Blisk nodded. “Jack said you requested me,” BT went on, getting straight to business so that he wouldn’t keep Blisk from resting any longer than necessary.  Blisk nodded again.

“Yeah.  Thought mebbe you’d jus’ knock my ass out until th’ nanites have done their job.”  

“You seem like you’ll be able to sleep on your own if you just want pain relief instead,” BT said.  

“Ah’ll jus’ wake up screamin’ again in a couple a hours,” Blisk said.  “Trust me on this one.” The shutters of BT’s optic narrowed into a suspicious squint.  “Ah didn’t wake up las’ night ‘cause Ah didn’t sleep,” Blisk explained. “Please don’t make me beg, it’ll jus’ embarrass us both,” he added.  “Jus’ want one good night…”

“Alright, alright,” BT said quickly.  “I understand.” He went to a cabinet, scanning its content before pulling out a little bottle, returning to Blisk and pulling up the triage kit yet again.  He pulled out the injector and, eyeing the liquid in the jar one more time for good measure, loaded the ampule. “Eight hours?” He offered, pausing to look at Blisk.

“Ten?” He countered hopefully. BT gave him a slow blink but nodded.  

“Ten.  Jack behaved himself, I take it?” He asked quietly as he finished, and replaced the partially depleted jar to its place in the cabinet. 

“Don’t hold it against ‘im if he got tangled up in his own emotions fer a bit,” Blisk said.  

“Oh, I don’t,” BT assured him.  “But Jack is prone to...tangling.  He has a self-destructive streak you might find relatable.”  He picked up the injector. “I simply am hoping he didn’t mistreat you before his head cleared.”  Blisk chuffed out a soft laugh.

“Nah, he was a perfect gentleman.  He’s a good guy. You found a real gem with that one.”  

BT gave Blisk one of his deep-blue smiles as he lifted the merc’s arm.  Blisk smiled sadly back. 

“Oh I know,” BT said warmly. “But thank you for noticing.” 

Blisk closed his eyes, not so much as twitching at the swift sting of the injector, and didn’t bother to attempt a reply as the fast-acting drugs swept him away into perfect, blessed blackness. 

 

The next forty-eight hours were nothing more than brief bursts of awareness for Blisk.  The drugs had worn off sometime in the early morning, and he’d drifted through the gooey haze they’d left his brain in without a care, dozing in and out for several more hours.  His side still ached, but nothing like it had been, and his lungs had stopped burning whenever he attempted to breathe too deeply.  

BT visited him, helping him sit up to dress his wound in fresh bandages after another application of Biogel.  Not long after, he returned with warm food.

Jack mostly left him alone. Blisk had catnapped off and on, and that night, he asked to be sedated again.  By the time the fog cleared from his head again the next day, the hole in his side had vanished, and they were back in orbit over Bohr.  Night was just beginning to blanket their view of the planet. Jack and BT had discussed their options while he recovered, and in a few hours, they would land under the cover of darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, Blisk IS aware of just how soft on Jack he's become. X) I'm not sure this chapter ACTUALLY counts as him getting a break, but it might as well because that's all he's getting! (huwee)  
> Posting this against my better judgment, as I've fallen behind on production on the back end again, so if it takes longer for the next post, that's why.   
> ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩f You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, your reviews will surely show it!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scrap of downtime for everyone, and a Reunion.

\--9--

Bohr was even gloomier at night.  A thin layer of fog sat about a meter off the ground, shifting subtly in the humid, still night, reeking of sulfur and blurring the dark shapes of the landscape. Just as they had hoped, this time the landing pad was devoid of life save for flying insects drawn to the dingy yellow lights set into the crumbling landing pad.  One other ship sat abandoned in the darkness, its cargo doors still open. As Blisk led them across the ramp, they passed a trio of dark heaps on the ground: the bodies of the men who'd accosted them. While their pockets had likely been picked clean, nobody had bothered to move the corpses. Blisk let out a soft snarl and delivered a sharp kick to one of them at random on the way by.  A swarm of bugs exploded from the body, some scuttling, some taking flight. Something larger and vaguely rodent-like took off into the darkness with an angry squeal. Jack startled and recoiled with a soft hiss of disgust. Blisk let out a bitter snort. 

"Serves 'em right," he huffed. They moved on.  Out of the haze, another shape appeared. An old pickup truck parked nosed up against a retaining wall near the airfield's main gate. Jack's jaw dropped and BT made a funny little sound that was part mirth, part intrigue.  BT had enough in his databases to recognize it as a later 20th-century combustion-engine vehicle, complete with pale, oxidized blue paint, out-dated rubber tires, and the word D A T S U N embossed into the rusty liftgate. It was nearing three hundred years old, it's model dating it all the way back to within a decade of humanity's first foray into space.  Jack had never seen anything like it. Blisk walked right up to it and laid out an open-palmed smack across the rear quarter panel. More scuttling and scurrying as several somethings startled and fled from under the vehicle. The driver's door was unlocked, and the old-fashioned aluminum hinges squealed from rust as he opened it. An equally old aluminum key glinted from where it was lodged into the archaic ignition.  Even on Bohr, nobody had bothered to steal it. 

Blisk threw himself heavily into the driver's seat, pumping the gas pedal several times and then cranking on the ignition.  It whirred and whined, and issued the occasional mechanical grinding noise, but didn’t start. Jack tentatively opened the passenger door, leaning in but not quite willing to take a seat until told to.  The shriek of its near-frozen hinges made him cringe. It had a strange, musty aroma of sun-baked vinyl and old cigarette smoke inside. Jack’s nose wrinkled. He didn’t think it was much of an improvement from the sulfur smell. 

"I didn't know you were a collector of antiques," BT quipped, chuckling when Blisk let out an annoyed grumble. He was still alternating between the gas and the ignition, and BT added wryly, "The choke's still in." 

Blisk huffed and yanked the pull-knob protruding from the dash out to its full extension, and went right on cranking and pumping the gas.  "Th' choke's been fucked at least a cent'ry," Blisk grumbled. Indeed, closing it didn't seem to have changed anything, except that, after a few more cranks, the truck issued a tremendously loud bang and then went ominously silent. They could smell gasoline.  He’d flooded it.  

Blisk sagged in defeat, muttering a quiet "yup," to himself as he got back out, slamming the door shut behind him. "C'mon,” he said, looking all around warily.  They were still alone. “Ain't that long of a walk..." Jack winced as he stepped back and closed the screeching door with a clang. 

The merc waved Jack and BT along and started off through the gate into the murky night without checking twice to see if they were following.  Jack hustled after, with BT trailing somewhat more sedately behind. 

 

The city streets were empty and disconcertingly quiet.  The buildings were mostly dark. The entire planet could have been deserted and they wouldn’t know the difference.  Jack hung close to BT, but a handful of steps behind Blisk, his eyes wide and wary. The sulfuric stench was even stronger a few blocks in, and the fog was thicker and steamier than ever. Blisk made a soft, unhappy sound as they walked through a particularly nasty patch. 

"Ugh. Bad night.  'Least we won't be runnin' inta anyone else out here," he said, his voice hushed.  Best not to risk it, just in case. 

"Is it always like this?" Jack couldn't help but ask, picking up his pace and holding his breath a little until they got to marginally clearer air. 

“Nah. 'S pretty rare, actually.  Jus' our luck. Good 'r bad...whichever," Blisk replied.

"The fog is due to heavy geothermal activity, yes?" BT said.

"Yeah," Blisk nodded, his swift stride not faltering as he spoke.  "Th’ whole planet's got it, but it's th' most frequent here. City uses it as a power source, even though now th' whole place smells like ass." It was a candid assessment, but Jack chuckled. 

"No kidding," he said. 

"Th' locals are used ta it, Ah guess," Blisk muttered. "Ah ain't.  C'mon, we're close." They'd only gone about six blocks, but Jack was already eager to get to shelter.  His skin was slick with the pungent mist, and he was certain it’d permeated his clothes, now hanging heavy with moisture.

They rounded a corner, and then one more, and Blisk drew to a stop before a squat, remarkably nondescript building that sat just a little taller than most of the surrounding structures.  A keypad glowed dimly through the haze next to a scuffed and grungy door. Blisk tapped off a fast passcode and the door groaned open to reveal an amber-lit, claustrophobic space that presented nothing but a pair of lifts.  Jack stopped just shy of the doorway and shot BT an uncertain look. 

"It's not gonna get any nicer 'n this," Blisk said somberly, sensing the other Pilot's hesitation. "Same as you, if Ah was gonna whack ya, Ah'd a done it by now.  This's jus cheap rent, but it's a helluva lot safer inside than out here. For all a us."

"Go on, Jack," BT rumbled softly.  "I've got you." Jack nodded and toed his way inside, BT following.  The door shut and locked with a loud click behind them, and the tension flooded out of Blisk's posture.  

"Thanks," Blisk murmured, blowing out a long breath of relief. He summoned the lift, and a minute later they were squeezed into the dingy elevator as it rose through the building.  Jack was visibly nervous, the Pilot twitchy and startling at every tiny sound the clanking and groaning elevator made. BT kept a hand on Jack’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing gentle, reassuring circles into his back. After what seemed like a painfully long ride, the lift finally stopped, and it was all Jack could do to keep from mowing the merc over on the way out. 

 

Blisk's flat was one of a half-dozen doors down an equally dim and shabby hallway, on the top floor.  This lock had a passcode and a retinal scan. Blisk’s code and biometrics were accepted and the security panel beeped and changed from red to green.  The door snapped open, lights illuminating automatically inside.

 

Jack didn't know what he was expecting but the space they walked into was jarringly ordinary. 

 

The cozy little studio was clean, undecorated, and minimally furnished with austere, practical furniture. The subtle scent of spice and patchouli that Jack had come to associate with Blisk permeated the space, strong enough to hint that he spent a good amount of time here, but faint enough to indicate it'd been a while since he was home. 

Home.

"You live here." It wasn't a question.

"For now," Blisk grunted, his tone turning guarded. "Got a real nice place...somewhere else, but ain't been back in at least a year. Not sure Ah'm gonna. The planet’s had a bit of a power turnover.  They won’t kick me off my property, but Ah’d prob’ly get arrested if Ah tried ta go back, too." He shrugged it off before Jack could comment. It was, in the bigger picture of things, the least of his worries.  

With no other preamble, he walked right by an obvious safe set into the wall, to the kitchenette, and with a grunt of effort, pulled the refrigerator away from its inset.  Behind it was another safe, this one no larger than a shoebox. He leaned into the gap between it and the fridge, and extracted it with a soft grunt, and, shouldering the fridge back into place, walked it over to a small table nearby. 

The security code for this one seemed like it was an entire paragraph long, Blisk rapidly tapping away as he entered a positively massive string of numbers by memory. When the lock finally opened, Blisk issued a soft sigh of relief and tipped the lid back to expose its contents. 

A single IMC-standard Datacore and a couple of patch cables were all that was hidden securely within. 

"Red?" Jack asked. Blisk nodded, extracting the core and cables and abruptly stuffing it all into Jack's hands. 

"Yep. Take care a that for a mo, yeah?" 

Jack clutched the core like his life depended on it, his face red and eyes wide as the merc turned away from him to BT. 

"Help me haul th' frame outta th' basement?" He asked.  "Fucker's heavy." 

"Sure," BT said, giving Jack a slow wink of his optic. 

"Great," Blisk said, his countenance softening again.  "Sit tight," he told Jack, and without further discussion, led BT back out of the flat into the drab, silent hallway.

 

Jack stood blinking after them, Red's Datacore cradled in his arms with all the tenderness and caution one would hold a newborn child. The door shut and locked, and Jack was alone in Blisk's apartment. 

For nearly a minute, Jack stood rooted in place, awkward bemusement momentarily paralyzing him. 

"Well," he said at last to no one, "This is weird."  

He turned in place, looking all around.  There wasn't much to see. He circled the room, caught somewhere between pacing and exploring.  There was a little work desk in one corner and a gun locker next to it. Most of the living space was taken up by a large and quite plush-looking couch, the cushions at one end, in particular, looking somewhat flatter than the other.  The kitchen was tiny but well-equipped, and meticulously clean. "This guy a neat-freak or what?" Jack said, smirking down at the Datacore in his arms. Not that the Legion could hear him -at least he didn't think so- but Jack was feeling too out of place to cope in silence. 

The only visible window was over the sink.  The view outside into the dank and dreary night was black, save for the feeble glow of yellow lights here and there, their light mostly diffused by the fog.  On the sill, however, sat the sole indicator, by Jack's opinion, that anyone actually lived here at all.

A single, plasti-textile printed photograph sat propped right in easy eyeshot from nearly anywhere in the studio, and Jack strode up to it curiously once he spotted it.  Twin girls, no older than seven or eight by Jack's estimation, with sandy blonde hair and heart-shaped faces stared into the camera with a stoicism well beyond their years. Jack tipped his head to the side, squinting somewhat as he examined their features.  It seemed like much of their genetics might have come from their mother, but there was no mistaking the icy blue of their eyes as Blisk's. There was a particular way plasti-textile "paper" photographs turned opaque and crackly around the edges with time that hinted to Jack that the picture was at least a decade old.  Judging by the little flakes of white plastic sprinkling the windowsill around where it sat, it was probably older. Wherever they were, these girls were women now. 

"Don't strike me as a family man..." Jack murmured.  He stepped away from the window, circling the main room again as he scoured for any other pictures or hints about Blisk's family, but there was none.  He sighed, eyeballing the one other door in the space. He chewed his lip thoughtfully. "Don't tell on me," he murmured to the Datacore in his hands.  

The door wasn't locked and opened readily for him. The spicy, earthy scent of Blisk immediately became stronger. Jack’s heart leapt up into his throat momentarily. 

Blisk's bedroom was dark, but as Jack's eyes adjusted, he could see it was as stark and lacking in creature comforts as the rest of his home. There were certainly no pictures hung on the walls or sat on window sills.  The bed was made tidily and was adorned with only a single, crumpled pillow. The only object that was out of place at all was a half-empty bottle of Bourbon on the nightstand. Jack grimaced at it and backed out of the room guiltily. "Should'a known better," Jack sighed, disappointed.  

By coincidence, his retreat from the bedroom left him standing right in the same spot he’d been left at when Blisk and BT returned.  The lock clunked loudly and the door hissed open, and they filed in, Blisk in the lead with BT trailing behind him with a limp and lifeless Stalker casually slung over his shoulder.  

"Yeh could 'a moved, Cooper," Blisk drawled, noticing Jack seemingly hadn’t shifted at all.  Jack winced, embarrassed, but didn't correct him either. "Sit it on th' couch, yeah?" He went on, looking back to BT. "An' stop smirking at me, Ah know you're doin' it!" 

BT complied, chuckling softly as he passed.  

"Ah tell 'im ta take one end a it and he jus' picks the whole damn thing up off th' floor and tosses it over his shoulder like a fuckin' sack a flour!" Blisk groused, feigning offense. He looked to be back in a friendly mood now that the tension of their clandestine trek through the city had passed.

"He did that with you, too, when we found you," Jack chuckled.

“I did," BT confessed. "And you're right, Kuben, I am smirking!" He also already had a panel removed from the Stalker's back, and was gingerly plucking wires out of one of the motherboards.  "Would there ever be any reason you'd need to revert this thing back to its original state?" He asked, still amicable but getting straight to work on fulfilling his promise. 

Blisk affected a look of total outrage from the tease, but there was a playful air to it that got him a sparkly little smile from Jack. Their eyes met briefly, and Jack turned pink as Blisk quickly averted his gaze again.  

"Nuh, those things'r vile," Blisk grumbled, stepping around Jack to stand behind the couch and watch BT's work.

"Good.  I'm going to wipe it clean then, and you can upload Red straight to it.  No need to insert the Datacore. Keep that as a backup. Got a datapad?" BT's tone was all business by now and carried a hint of gentle command to it that made Jack smile with nostalgia and Blisk spring into action on pure reflex.  The merc hurried over to the desk nearby and withdrew a datapad from one of the drawers, powering it on as he walked it back over to BT. Without being asked, he immediately went back for a handful of neatly bundled cables, bringing them back to the Vanguard and offering them as a selection.  BT rumbled out a pleased sound of approval. 

"Thank you, Kuben," he said, his tone velvety.  

Blisk's eyes got a little wider, and his ears got hot as he realized just how readily he’d responded to BT’s command.  He shot Jack a sidelong, almost guilty glance. Jack cleared his throat and tried not to smirk as he took a seat at the opposite end of the couch, still cradling Red's backup in his hands. Bereft of a witty comeback, Blisk simply went back to his unofficial station at the Vanguard's shoulder to follow along as BT started hooking up the datapad.   BT was already tapping away, typing rapidly into a prompt, and made no comment on Blisk’s awkward little fluster. 

"While I have to assume it'll vary slightly between what I'm familiar with from the Militia's operating systems, and what Red will encounter, I'm including information on the basic method for being able to patch over to a full-sized chassis from this frame, should he need to, as well. This may require some tweaking, but the rest I'm confident in." 

"No Datacore needed at all?" Blisk asked.  

"He'll still need it for the full chassis, with all the additional systems he’ll be running there, but he should be able to transfer consciousness and recent data between this and the chassis without too much effort.  But for his time in the Stalker frame, no."

Jack watched the pair, unaware that he was smiling softly as he listened to them talk.  BT was dutifully walking Blisk through what he was doing, not only providing the service of his knowledge but passing it on as he did so as well.  Blisk's face had hardened into one of intense focus, and he nodded from time to time, and even asked a couple of questions, though, for the most part, it was clear that he could follow what BT was telling him without trouble. Blisk's intelligence had been no secret to them, but Jack enjoyed getting to see it in action. 

At last, BT turned to Jack, extending one hand. 

"We're ready for that, now," he said, a particular warmth in his tone that BT usually reserved for when they were alone. Blisk had become a trusted confidant in their relationship.  Jack colored slightly, and, realizing he'd been hugging the Datacore in his hands like a toy, handed it over quickly. From where he stood behind the couch, Blisk watched the exchange with bright eyes, a not-quite smile smoothing his face.  

"Not many folks respect Titans th' way you do, Cooper," Blisk rumbled, his tone approving.  Jack's little blush deepened.

"Jack has a unique perspective," BT purred, taking the Datacore out of his Pilot's hands with a deliberate brush of fingertips, connecting a cable between it and the datapad, with another going into the frame.  "But you seem to have lumped yourself into that observation also, Kuben," BT went on thoughtfully. "Tell me, are you and Red lovers as well?" 

They weren't, and this became comedically clear as Blisk's eyes popped open wide, and his face turned cherry-red. BT had probably been expecting this exact reaction as Blisk sputtered slightly.

"N-no!" He shook his head as if to clear it. "No.  How would that even work..?" He blurted, despite himself.  

"It works," BT rumbled.  "My apologies, I didn't intend to fluster you," he went on smoothly.  "Curiosity got the better of me." 

No-one bought that for a minute but Blisk, surprisingly, didn't seem remarkably bothered by it after the initial shock.  

"Naah," he waved him off.  "Th' big guy's pretty important ta me, yeah, but it ain't anything like that," he clarified.  He did love Red, that much was clear, but this was the closest he'd gotten to admitting it to them.  

"I understand," BT said, giving Blisk a little flicker.  "Well, you'll still be pleased to know it appears the data transfer was a perfect success.  I'll boot him up now if you're ready." Blisk nodded sedately. His face was neutral but his hands gripped the back of the sofa tellingly. BT hummed softly, and carefully disconnected all of the cables, handing the Datacore back to Jack, along with the pad. "Please put the core back in it's safe, Jack," BT said.  Jack stood and went to return it to the table where the safe still sat. "Please stand back, just in case he panics," BT said to Blisk, rising as well and, as Blisk took a couple of steps away, flipped a switch and closed the panel on the frame. 

The robot shuddered, twitching hard, and then all of its biolights illuminated, flashing on and off several times before settling on a steady glow.  The red optics blinked once, twice, and the triangular head swiveled, pointing right at BT. BT flickered at it and chirped a friendly greeting in a fast burst if binary. The bot blinked and ground out a rattling reply on reflex, but then blinked again, looking all around.

"Um." The voice was so deep it sounded almost like falling boulders, but Blisk's face lit up excitedly as he recognized his friend's familiar voice. "Why am I so short?  And… inside??" Red then spotted Blisk and sat up a little straighter, his optic brightening. "Kuben!" He stood on reflex in his excitement, then stopped, wobbling slightly.  "Is this the apartment?" He asked, looking all around. He then noticed Jack. "Who are you?" He glanced back to Blisk, then over to BT rapidly, then seemed to zero back in on Jack in a double-take as long-stored data started to catch up. "Militia Pilot Jack Cooper. Wanted. Reward-"

"Easy, Red," Blisk rumbled, taking a long step to position himself between Jack and the Legion.  Red shut up. "They helped us,” Blisk went on, “Stand down." 

Red sat heavily back onto the couch. 

"Friends?" He asked tentatively, locking his attention back on Blisk.  Blisk nodded.

"Yeah."  Red squinted in confusion, his head cocking.  BT had helpfully imparted some of his expressive protocols.  Red began to fidget anxiously, fiddling with the fingers of one hand with the other.  

"But that bounty..."

"Drop it, Red," Blisk said firmly. "They've saved my life twice in th' last five days. Ah ain't claimin' nothin." 

Red visibly relaxed.

"Alright," he conceded, glancing again curiously at BT, who rattled off another buzz of binary, belatedly introducing himself, as well as filling the Legion in on all that had transpired.  Red's optic flared brightly in shock as he processed all that he was being told. He looked fit to fall over.

“They rescued you?!" He demanded, looking back to Blisk.  "And how'd this happen?" He added, raising his own arms to examine them excitedly. 

"Yeah, they did," Blisk replied, smirking happily as he watched Red examine his new body.  "An' BT did that for ya. Told 'im you'd share your Phoenix software in exchange."

Red blinked again, and let out a high, excited chirp that made Blisk break into a sunny grin that lit up the room.  Jack seemed to melt from the glow until BT shot him a  _ look _ and he schooled his face back to neutral.  

"I can do that!" Red declared, sounding almost breathless.  "Get me a cable! I'll hard-line it to you!" He didn’t seem to notice how Blisk was looking at him… or how Jack was looking at Blisk.  He turned to BT again and only then seemed to realize his construction was entirely unfamiliar, save for the Spectre head. "Err... If you have compatibility...?" He asked, sounding embarrassed. BT chuckled softly.

"I do," BT said.  He paced back over to Red and, without preamble, opened the zip on his flight suit down to the navel.

“Wow,” Blisk and Red said in perfect unison.  From the collar down, BT was a near-perfect replica of a man in his prime, complete with a sculpted chest and abs, and a light dusting of dark hair.  Synthetic muscles shifted under artificial skin that was just a shade darker than Jack’s as he twisted and dug a finger into an invisible seam in his side.  A panel popped open, revealing electronics and part of his titanium skeleton.  

“Thank you, Kuben,” BT said, his tone smug as he gestured for the cable hanging forgotten in Blisk’s hand.  The merc grimaced in embarrassment as he forced himself to quit staring, and handed it over.

“That’s astounding…” Red sighed, his voice all but dripping with longing.

“Why thank you,” BT purred, inserting one end of the cable into himself and handing the other to Red, who’d opened a panel in one arm.  “A work in progress, obviously,” BT went on. “I hope to be entirely passable as human, soon.” Much more quietly, he sent Red a little data packet with the information on how to contact his craftsman, the Legion giving him a soft chirr of gratitude and then going quiet as he began assembling a much larger databurst for BT with his program.  

 

For the next fifteen minutes, both Titans settled down into near silence as Red shuttled files over to BT, and Blisk and Jack were left more or less to themselves.  For a time, they simply stared at each other as the awkward silence stretched. Jack caved first.

“So uhh…” He fumbled for conversation.  He wanted to ask about the girls in the photograph but didn’t think he should.  “How long have you been here?” Blisk shrugged.

“Bout six years now, Ah guess…” For a long minute, he didn’t say anything else, and Jack thought that was all the answer he was going to get.  He chewed the inside of his lip, wracking his brain for what to say next when Blisk suddenly continued. “Shortly after Red an’ I linked my, err… Ex-wife and I… split up, Ah guess.” 

Jack’s eyebrows shot up.

“You were married?” Jack blurted.  Blisk nodded, a bitter, hurt smile making him look old.

“For almost fifteen years, in fact.  ‘Till she got bought by th’ Militia an’ tried ta assassinate me,” he said, his lip curling.  “Nothin’ like gettin’ a knife stuck in ya ta learn you’ve been dumped…” He tried to laugh it off but it sounded like broken glass, and he and Jack shared a grimace.  “Thas…. That’s how Ah got this mess…” He tapped his own chest. Jack blanched, remembering the horrific mess of scars that had left Blisk’s chest mangled. “Ah thought it was real, but now Ah think she’d a done it whether she’d been paid ta or not.”  Blisk’s voice shook ever so slightly, and he blew out a long, tremulous breath to steady it. He raised both hands, rubbing his face, and Jack had to look away.  

“Jesus,” he breathed.  

“Ah had it comin’,” Blisk said firmly.  Jack looked back up, taken aback. “As rotten as Ah’ve always been, at that time, Ah was at my worst. Mean as a snake, arrogant...and fuckin’  _ clueless _ -” he spat the word with all manner of venom, all of it aimed entirely at himself, “-on how ta keep a family.  Ah had it comin’, but she didn’t follow through an’ Ah survived. She got hers a month later when Ah demolished th’ entire town an’ her with it on th’ IMC’s dime.”  

Jack’s jaw dropped in horror. There’d been love in the merc’s voice.  Hurt and loss, and all the evidence in the world that he seemingly still loved this woman right up until that last jarring confession. Feeling as though he’d just been slapped, Jack suddenly remembered just whom he was dealing with. Whose couch he was sitting on.  Whom he’d clumsily attempted to seduce not two days earlier. More of the color drained out of Jack’s face, and when he glanced nervously back at Blisk, the merc had a look of bitter satisfaction on his face that made Jack’s stomach flop uncomfortably.  

“Ah ain’t gonna remind ya again, but don’t forget, this time,” Blisk said softly. Jack could only nod, stunned. 

The silence began to stretch again, Jack struggling once more with reconciling what he knew about Blisk, and what he'd seen over the last handful of days.  He tried to let it go, to move on mentally. Blisk was not a good man. He'd proven this, time and again, through his own actions and words. Jack shouldn't have been surprised at all, but the more he tried not to think about it, the more one niggling thought kicked and scraped at his tongue until finally, he couldn't hold it in any longer.

"What about your kids?" He asked in a rush.  Blisk had a reputation for being particularly brutal.  No-one was safe from his cruelty once they were in the crosshairs. Not civilians, not women. If he almost proudly described demolishing an entire town, did that include the children as well?

Jack watched in horror as something dark and nasty passed through Blisk's countenance, the merc's eyes narrowing keenly.  For a long moment, he said nothing as he stared back at Jack, sharp eyes pinning him. At length, he finally looked away, glancing back to the kitchen window, and his posture softened.

"Off planet, by then," He said quietly.  "Made sure 'a that." 

Jack blew out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, but then his breathing caught again as Blisk looked back at him.  His eyes alone had changed: gone glassy and vulnerable in a way Jack didn't want to be shown.  

"Found out about a year ago they've been on Harmony since their mother...left me. Shacked up with yer thug friends like their mother, Ah suppose." 

The barest glancing movement of BT’s head told Jack he’d come to the same conclusion he had: If Blisk hadn’t chosen to leave them alone that fateful day on Typhon, he’d have unknowingly lost his children. 

"You don't know?" Jack blurted, immediately hating himself for it.  Blisk looked sadder than ever.

"Nuh." He grunted the negation and turned away.  He went to the window, a tiny piece of the photograph's plastic dropping away as he picked it up.  "Ah'm good at a lot a things, but bein' a good dad ain't one a them." He walked it back to Jack, showing it to the other Pilot even though Jack had clearly already gotten a look at it. "Unlike some folks," he went on, trying to soften the moment with a tease, "they know trash when they see it an' stay away."  Jack couldn't manage more than an embarrassed chuckle, however, and looked away. As thick-skinned as Blisk was, it was clear that his estrangement to his children, no matter how justified, hurt like hell. Jack stared down at the picture in Blisk’s hand. He reached out, holding his hands over part of it so that only their eyes, noses and mouths were visible.  The icy bitterness in their countenances stood out all the more starkly this way, as did their resemblance to Blisk.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. 

“Don’t mention it,” Blisk sighed, turning away to put the photo back in its place.  

“Do you-”

“Seriously. Don’t.” 

It was at that moment that the lucky interruption of Red finally finishing his transfer with a cheerful, “Done!” arrived, and Blisk and Jack both turned back to their Titans. BT had the cables out again and was nonchalantly zipping up his flight suit.

“Thank you, Red,” the Vanguard rumbled.  “Your generosity is greatly appreciated."

“Any time,” Red said brightly, flickering happily.  “You saved my Pilot’s life...twice. I’d give you more if I had it.” Red straightened up, turning to look over at Blisk suddenly, his optics flaring. “Speaking of which… please excuse us.” 

Red stood and strode over with long, steady steps, brushing past Jack to all but run to Blisk.  He laid a mechanical hand right over Blisk’s heart, pushing him back gently.

Blisk was a big man but the Stalkers were built with intimidation in mind, and so Red, fittingly, stood at least four inches taller than Blisk, towering over him.  He backed up instinctively, staring up into brilliant amber optics with a strangely open expression. Red walked him back, four, five steps, and the bedroom door hissed open at Blisk’s shoulder.  He nudged his Pilot through the door and stepped in after him, the door whisking shut behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter is long! Who wants a vacation home on Bohr!? XD
> 
> I realize that most of what this chapter is isn't strictly necessary, but I just LOVE doing little slice-of-life details to better describe a character. Hopefully, ya'll enjoyed it too.  
> Also...  
> Yes, the Datsun is back. If you google "1971 Datsun Truck" the very first image that comes up shows you pretty much THE EXACT car. I've been throwing this truck into my writing for over a decade, and if some of you go far enough into my old writings on ff.net etc I think you'll see at one point Cid Highwind had it, also. <3 I don't know what's so special about it to me, but it's literally my ONLY Consistently reocurring "OC" if you will.  
> And Red! My sweet baby boy <3 There's a lot of me in that big lug, and I just love seeing that he's getting a little tiny fanbase of his own. I've done a LOT of writing for him in RPs with PilotRyan for ages, but I'm excited to see him working his way into my mainstream fics now as well. My friend Morningstar has a fun take on him, also. Definitely go check out her works if you haven't yet. <3
> 
> ALSO. BT is an instinctive Dom and you can't change my mind. ಸ‿ಸ
> 
> Anyway, don't put your umbrellas away yet, the fun's over and we go back to feelsville next chapter!
> 
> ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩f You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, your reviews will surely show it!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Send out the dogs, we have a runner.

\--10--

Red could feel Blisk’s heart pattering under his palm.  He was warm, and firm-yet-soft in a way that only humans could be.  Time had stopped for Red since he’d been destroyed several days earlier, but he still missed him on instinct, and already the void where their Neural Link should have been was becoming too much to bear. 

“Get your spare,” he demanded, nudging Blisk toward the closet where he knew there would be an extra helmet.  “I’m not waiting any longer.” He didn’t usually boss his Pilot around, but Blisk looked too threadbare, too close to a meltdown.  He needed to know the rest of the story to what he’d missed, and he needed to get into the Pilot’s head so he could do some housekeeping. Now.

Tellingly, Blisk didn’t hesitate at all to obey.   He crossed the little room in three fast steps and threw the closet open, withdrawing a no-frills IMC standard issue helmet.  It was not Blisk’s preferred model, but it would do in a pinch. He hadn’t even walked all the way back to Red when he stuffed it down over his head, the visor illuminating with a golden glow.  He came back to where Red waited, standing almost toe-to-toe with the Stalker-turned-Legion. 

“I like this perspective of you, Kuben,” Red rumbled, watching the merc closely.  Something in the helmet beeped, finally responding to his pings. “I like being able to look into your eyes. I like how close we can stand to one another.” He reached out, catching Blisk by the arm, just above the elbow, and tugged him in gently for a carefully calculated embrace. “Oh, I like this…!” Red breathed.  Blisk was stiff in his arms. He hadn’t actually expected the prickly merc to be remarkably receptive to physical intimacy of any sort, but at least he wasn’t fighting him off. “Initiate Neural Link…” Red whispered, cradling Blisk against him.  

 

Jack and BT stood together in Blisk’s living room, smirking at each other.  “That was abrupt,” BT chuckled. 

“You did the same thing to me when we got you out of that helmet,” Jack chuckled, then burst into outright giggles when they heard Blisk issue a sharp cry.  

“And that’s the noise you made once we were linked again,” BT purred. Jack blushed. He’d also creamed his pants.

“You don’t think they’re-”

“Probably not,” BT rumbled, that distinct sound of a smirk still in his voice. “Probably.” 

 

Blisk shuddered, leaning hard into Red’s unyielding chest, letting his Legion support him as he leveraged the helmet back off, tossing it aside carelessly.

Red was always, always so gentle with him, but as the Titan gingerly eased back into his mind once more, everything Blisk had been trying so, so hard to keep a lid on for the last five days came cascading out in a rush of pain and sadness that left the merc with shaking knees and a swimming head.

“Oh, Kuben…” Red sighed, holding him up.  “I’m so sorry, my friend.” He was picking his way through Blisk’s mind, cleaning house.  The old traumas, he gathered up and ushered back into their place of keeping, what little physical pain that remained, he numbed.  The bitterness and the self-hatred, he soothed, but the heartache was something he simply didn’t know what to do with.  

“Glad yer back, Bud,” Blisk huffed, allowing himself a rare moment of vulnerability with the Legion.  He could feel his Titan meddling with his mind. The old hurts faded away into distant noise and were even gently tugged out of his grasp when he tried to hold on.  After six years of constant maintenance, the Legion was a master at keeping Blisk sane. It was a relief to have him back on the job, especially now. 

Red very carefully pulled him a little tighter against his new body.  Blisk twitched but let him hold on, figuring this was as good as he was going to get any time soon. His chest tightened as he suddenly as he thought of Jack. He grimaced, and squirmed just a little in Red’s embrace, pulling back.

“I am, as well, Pilot,” Red said, examining Blisk’s face closely.  “This is good, this.” He finally released Blisk and stepped back to look him up and down.  Blisk’s eyes had a concerning sheen to them, but Red didn’t mention it. “Thank you,” he said instead.  Blisk looked away and shrugged, further betraying his fragile mood. 

“Thank BT,” he whispered.

“BT gave me this frame as well?” Red chuckled, knowing he hadn’t.  Blisk’s ears colored just slightly. “I will thank him again, also,” Red conceded before Blisk could get defensive.  Blisk nodded.  

“Do that,” he said.  Blisk was already closing off again: hardening up and going back into ‘business mode.’  Red sagged just slightly where he stood. “Ah’m gonna get some stuff together an’ we kin hit th’ road. Don’t want ta stay in this shithole any longer than we’ve got ta,” Blisk went on.  He’d already turned away, and pulled a duffel bag out of one corner of the closet, opening it and tossing it to the floor.  

“Are we going with Cooper and BT?” Red asked hopefully. Blisk snorted.

“Hell no.  Almost got th’ kid shot already. Ain’t lettin’ ‘im stick around longer than absolutely necessary, yeah?.” 

“As I recall, Cooper is quite capable of self-defense,” Red rumbled. “And terribly fond of you, I’m informed.” 

“Ah know. Thas’ th’ oth’a reason,” Blisk mumbled, his accent going thick with withheld emotion. “Now shaddup an' go socialize or somethin’ while Ah get my shit together.” Blisk waved him away with one hand and got to work packing some fresh clothes and gear.  

Red stared after him a moment, but then turned and shuffled back out into the main room. 

 

When he stepped out, Cooper and BT were both blinking at him expectantly.  

“We’re heading out soon, it seems,” Red said, just a hair sullenly.  “Though I can’t blame him for not wanting to stay here a second longer than necessary.” Cooper snorted softly in agreement.  “I’m sure you’re ready to be on your way home too,” he added, watching with interest as Cooper’s face fell. His face looked the way Blisk felt.  Desperate and hurt. Blisk had closed the Link down, stifling his thoughts and emotions, but the ache leaked through. They weren’t in battle, but Protocol 3 still clamored for action.  Red hesitated for several long seconds, weighing the risks, but finally spoke up.

 "You know," Red stepped a little closer to Jack and BT, lowering his voice carefully so that Blisk wouldn’t hear him from the next room. "Kuben is malleable. Like clay.”  Red made awkward, vague gestures in the air as if shaping something with his hands. “He... he looks for what someone wants from him, or what's expected, and he forms himself into the right shape to become whatever he needs to."

"What are you saying?" BT asked, and the other Titan flickered, glancing over to Jack.

"I'm saying that, given a reason to make a change, he'd drop the mean-guy act a lot faster than you might think." Jack frowned, his brow knitting. "I can't tell you how much pain he's in," Red plowed on, fighting hard to get them to take the hint without saying it outright and betraying his Pilot's trust. 

"No, we've seen it," Jack breathed. Red blinked at him, startled by not only the fact that Blisk had exposed any part of his weaknesses to anyone, but also by how much this knowledge seemed to hurt the other man. He paused, staring at the pair, and BT grunted out a soft string of binary: We'll talk later. "I mean new pain..." Red went on at last. "Right now. Here." He tilted his head toward Jack. "He doesn't want to part ways with you.  Which is why he’s running." This last part, the Legion rushed out, fast and whisper-quiet, and a second later Blisk reappeared, a dark frown on his face.

"Whaddaya doin, Red...?" He murmured, his tone taut. He went over to the locker by the desk, his stride swift.  More lock combinations and the door popped open. He dug through it, pulling out several packs of ammo, a handful of knives, and several pistols, dumping half of it into the bag and equipping the rest on his person. His posture was tense, and he kept shooting Red suspicious glances over his shoulder. 

“Socializing!” Red said, defensive. “Just like you said to.”

“He’s got some terribly quaint jokes,” BT rumbled.  “Though I’m worried your sense of humor might go over the heads of most humans, Red.”

Blisk narrowed his eyes, giving Red a stern, suspicious look, but after a moment, chucked the last of his weapons into the bag and retreated back to the bedroom for whatever extraneous accouterments he could fit into the limited remaining space he had. 

“Clever save,” Red complimented, flickering in gratitude at BT once the door had shut behind Blisk once more. 

"What are you suggesting?" BT chirped a quiet acknowledgment but then returned to the real topic.  Red hesitated.

"I...don't know." He looked away.  "If you can... help him. Please. The man you met on Typhon... he...never truly existed. That brutish persona is his business label: what he sells to the IMC because that’s what they want.  He’s not really like that. It's killing him. Kuben’s been in a dark place for a very long time, but I don't think he will last much longer left as he is now." Jack and BT exchanged a look, Jack looking terribly concerned.  "You're the only ones," Red rushed out, throwing caution away. "He has no-one. No friends. No  _ allies. _   He's been cast away from his family.  You two, aside from me, are the only people left that know him at all, that wouldn't try to murder him on the spot." 

"There's a reason for that," BT rumbled.  Jack shifted his weight uncomfortably.  

"There most definitely is," Red agreed somberly. "What I'm hoping, is that there is also a reason to move on from it."  

Blisk stepped back out again a moment later, stony-eyed and serious. He was back in his armor and the duffel was slung over his shoulder.  He tossed a rifle to Red, the Legion catching it easily with a chirp. 

"Lessgo, Red," he said, voice low.  He looked ready to walk out of the apartment whether BT and Jack were still there or not.  Jack's knees locked. What should he do? Blisk's pale eyes, now almost gray from tension, slid up to meet Jack's.  He stared back for a moment, but said nothing before looking away again, and headed for the door.

"Just a moment, Kuben," BT rumbled, his tone as soft as the merc's.  Blisk stopped, looking back at BT with an almost worried look. "May I have a moment?" BT went on, giving a pointed look to the exit, "That we can talk in private?" 

Blisk stared back thoughtfully, a little frown forming, but he nodded.  

"Stay here," he told Red, who nodded and sidled a little closer to Jack, earning him a raised eyebrow from his Pilot. "Don't try an’ tell him any a your stupid jokes," he added just as firmly.  Jack grimaced at the mean comment, but Red chuckled. "Lead th' way," Blisk said to BT, stepping aside and then following the Titan out. 

 

By the time the door shut behind Blisk, BT was already propped against the opposite wall of the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest as he contemplated the mercenary in thoughtful silence. Blisk assumed a similar pose across from him and waited patiently for the Vanguard to speak. 

"Jack is a lot like you, you know," BT began at last, low and serious.  Blisk stiffened. He thought they'd moved past that, but BT held up a hand. "In that, he's very talented at appearing calm and composed, even when he's ready to fall apart." Blisk blew out a hard puff of air and looked away.  He knew better by now than to try and bluff himself out of one of the impossibly keen bot's observations. "Red appears to be greatly concerned for your well-being," BT went on a moment later, and immediately Blisk inflated again, his ire prickling.

"That meddling sonoffa-"

"Hush and listen to me before you get mad at Red," BT interjected, his voice stern enough that Blisk did just that, quelling once more. "We're concerned too -yes, even me." The look of anger fizzled out of Blisk's eyes, and he sagged a bit against the wall. "Come back to Harmony with us," BT said, making Blisk's head snap up.  "Both of you." 

"Tha's a terrible idea!" Blisk countered, almost sounding angry again. Or hurt.

"Probably," BT agreed evenly but went on anyway.  "We're well outside of the city, it's a small home, with meadows for miles on all sides. It's quiet.  Stay as long as you like. We'll make room. No one would bother you."

"Right up until someone figures out yer harborin' a war criminal," Blisk growled, turning away.  "Th' answer's no." He took the two long steps back to the apartment door and slapped it open. "C'mon, Red!" He barked the command sharply enough that Jack startled visibly. The Legion's optic paled in disappointment, Blisk’s tone unmistakable, but he hurried to Blisk's side without argument, Jack following glumly behind.  "Ah'm not sayin'," Blisk said, gentler now as he passed BT in the hallway, "Ah don't appreciate th' offer... or all that you've done for me." His expression grew earnest, and he offered Jack a tiny, sorry smile as the other Pilot slid in close to BT's side. "But it's th' same problem as before.” He reached into his duffel, producing another rifle, which he pressed into BT’s hands.  “Ah'd rather you're safe." He glanced back at Red as the Legion bunched up at his shoulder. "Lessgo." 

BT held Jack's hand comfortingly as he watched Blisk go, but as Red trailed after, he let out a fast burst of binary.  Red glanced sharply his way with a soft chirp, optic bright, but said nothing in reply. In their wake, the door to Blisk's apartment snapped shut, locking audibly, and in a matter of minutes, BT and Jack were left alone in the dingy gray hallway, the retreating backs of Blisk and his Titan long gone. 

Only then did Jack move, letting out a soft gasp and then sliding down the wall to crouch with his forehead pressed into his knees.  He hugged his own head with both arms and, after holding his breath against the emotions until his chest hurt, broke into soft, muffled sobs. BT said nothing, standing sentinel over his weeping Pilot and let Jack cry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeyyy I've managed to crank out four more chapters in as many days so ya'll get a quick update, yay!
> 
> ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩f You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, your reviews will surely show it!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆


	11. Chapter 11

\--11--

It was nearing dawn when Jack and BT finally followed Blisk’s footsteps down the hall, to the lift, and then to the cramped lobby below. Outside, the City was cast in a gray twilight, and that rank fog was beginning to disperse. BT led the way back to the starport, the rifle he’d been given held at the ready.  Jack drifted along behind him like a ghost. 

It was still early -or late- enough that not a soul shared the streets with them save for the vermin that occasionally scuttled from the murky shadows.  The smell, while somewhat improved from earlier, was still oppressive enough to likely discourage anyone from venturing out. Jack barely paid attention to his surroundings, staring dejectedly down at his feet as he trailed after his Titan.  His mind simultaneously tumbled with too many thoughts and seemed utterly blank at the same time. Too many conflicting ideas bumped together: how he longed for Blisk, and why he shouldn’t. How he could keep him, and how he couldn’t. How terribly he wanted to chase after him, even though he had no way of knowing where he’d gone.  How he wished he hadn’t frozen, back up in the dim, depressing hallway of a dumpy apartment complex as he watched Blisk’s back get smaller and smaller with distance.  

He didn’t even realize they’d arrived back where they started until BT stopped, and he almost ran into him.  Jack made a small noise of surprise, looking around as he suddenly became aware of his surroundings once more. 

They were back to their little shuttle.  BT broke away and circled it, looking it over carefully.  The corpses were still in a rotting heap not far away, but their ship was now nowhere to be seen. Jack supposed that Blisk and Red had taken it. They had at least a couple hours’ head start on them and could, by now, be literally anywhere.  The last tiny scrap of hope that Jack had of tracking them down fizzled away with a soft whine he didn’t realize he’d made.

“Come on, Jack,” BT rumbled, having returned to his Pilot’s side. He wound his arms around Jack’s shoulders, hugging him firmly.  “Let’s go home.” 

 

“You know,” Red spoke up for the first time in two hours from his station as copilot in the haggard little cargo ship they’d commandeered. Blisk had been spiraling into a moody silence that had only gotten silent-er and moodier with time. “You’re awfully stupid for being one of the smartest men I know of.”   

It was an ominous sign, if Red knew Blisk at all, that Blisk’s only reply to the jibe was to hunch his shoulders up and look away.  Usually, Red could at least pester a few grumbles out of his Pilot with that sort of tactic, and generally garnered a good lengthy tirade as well. A quiet Kuben was never good news. 

“Yeah, Ah know,” Blisk said at last, his voice small. They’d made their first jump and were drifting in space, recharging the jump drive while Blisk studied the telemetry for their next jump.  Red could have done the math in milliseconds but Blisk had insisted on doing it. He needed the distraction.

“What are you afraid of?”  Red murmured, watching the Pilot closely.  He nudged at his end of the Neural Link. Blisk had him well and truly blocked from his thoughts, and so all Red had to work with was the awful, choking ache lodged high in the man’s chest.

“Nothin’,” Blisk grunted.  “Lemme concentrate.” 

“Bullshit,” Red countered, and then, “Here.” He reached out and snatched the datapad out of Blisk’s hands.  Faster than a human would have been physically able, he tapped in the final coordinates, having already done the calculations.  He handed it back, staring blandly into the irate glare Blisk had fixed him.

“Damn it, Red…” Blisk growled, his face twisting into a snarl.  “Ah wanted ta-”

“Distract yourself.  I know. You can shut me out all you want, Kuben, but I can still  _ feel _ what you feel, and it  _ hurts _ !” Red gave the block in the Link a hard mental kick that made Blisk cringe. “I don’t understand it; I only feel it,” Red went on quickly.  “Tell me what’s going on in that thick noggin of yours, damn it! I don’t deserve to be shut out just because you want to have yourself a sulk!” He had a distinctly frantic pitch to his voice, and Blisk’s bitter expression softened into guilt.  Sullen silence stretched between them as Red waited for a response. He got none. “You promised you weren’t going to do this anymore!” Red went on, plaintive. Blisk had his elbows up on the console, and his face pressed into his palms. His breath caught, and Red could hear him holding it briefly.  

“Ah’m sorry, bud,” Blisk groaned, lifting his head and giving Red a sorry look.  There was a pause, and then slowly, he cracked the gates open, letting Red slide gently back into his mind.  

Oh...what a trainwreck.  Even Blisk’s version of a good day was a mess, but the grease fire of conflicting thoughts that mingled with the usual self-hatred and the new, searing-hot flame of longing addling mercenary’s mind now definitely counted as one of the worst Red had seen. 

While he still couldn’t fathom why Cooper and BT had gone out of their way to help him, Kuben was unable to deny that in that short period of time he shared with them, he’d connected with them in a way that he hadn’t been capable of in a very, very long time. They were  _ friends _ .  He liked them, and he cared for them, and though he hadn’t come to this conclusion himself just yet, Red could see that Blisk probably always would.  They were trusted and valued well above any other souls that had touched their lives in the last half-decade or more. In their five short days together, he’d grown to love them with the same sad hopelessness he loved his daughters, and the same abandon he’d loved their mother. 

Blisk  _ hated _ that he loved them. He hated how fast he’d become attached. Hated how after even the slightest shred of friendliness, they had become so important despite his best efforts to keep them at arms’ length.  

He hated how he wished Jack had tried a little harder, pushed just a little further.  He’d been so close, so ready to give in, but Jack was just too pure for this world, and when Blisk had drawn the line, Jack had not dared to so much as toe it again. Blisk was absolutely convinced that he was too rotten to be worthy of that kind of purity, and so shied away from it. He was a man dying of thirst because he refused to drink.

It wasn’t  _ that _ kind of love yet, but Kuben and Red both knew that it wouldn’t take much for what Blisk harbored now to evolve into what Jack wanted.  

It was for this exact reason, that Blisk had literally packed his bags and run. 

“They  _ like _ you, against all the odds,” Red rumbled softly. “ _ Jack _ likes you. A lot.”  Blisk sank down in his seat sullenly. 

“Ah know.”

“He’s not Meredith,” Red plowed on.

“A ‘course he ain't!” Blisk snapped, defensive.  

But he was Militia.

But they were supposed to be enemies.

But Blisk had loved her, and she’d seemingly loved him, and look where  _ that _ got him.  He’d given her his heart and she’d - _ literally _ \- stuck a knife in it.  He’d learned his lesson.  

“It ain’t about that at all!” Blisk lied.  Red only barely held in his bitter snort of disbelief.  “He got shot at,  _ immediately _ , jus’ standin’ next ta me!” Blisk went on, despite sensing that Red could see through his bluff. 

“He has a multi-million credit price on his head, Kuben, he could be targeted anywhere if th wrong person recognized him.  Don’t give yourself so much credit,” Red drawled, somewhat unkindly. “He’s one of the very few in the Frontier with a higher kill count than your own. He doesn’t need you to protect him.” Blisk actually bolstered in the face of such criticism, able to come to terms with his own imagined insufficiency than the idea that he might have some sort of value to the Militia Pilot. It was a heartbreaking tactic Red didn’t like to use, but knew would work.

“Mebbe,” Blisk agreed with a sigh.  “Even so, Ah can’t bear ta be there when someone finally gets ‘im, either.” 

“That might have been the case,” Red countered, switching tactics, “right there on Bohr if you hadn’t been with him.  BT told me he calculated Jack would have been slain instantly if you hadn’t intervened.” 

“How d’ya know Ah didn’t jus’ try ta run an’ went th’ wrong direction. Suppose Jack jus’ got lucky, huh?” Blisk spat, almost desperately fumbling for a way to discredit himself.

“Because I know that you are not only smart enough to know better but dumb enough to do it anyway,” Red said, sending a gentle wash of fondness down the Link and swathing Blisk in a deep wave of the type of unconditional love that only a Titan was capable of for his Pilot.  Kuben let out a harsh breath, and Red caught him momentarily hugging himself without realizing it.  

“Yeah, alright,” Blisk said at last, defeated.  

“We could go back. Track them down again,” Red offered. Blisk sagged down a little further.  He looked so tired, the poor man. 

“Nuh.  Ah made my decision. They’ll be alright, an’ so will we.” 

Red couldn’t argue with that, and a heavy silence fell between them.  Blisk seemed to droop lower and lower with every moment. He looked haggard and overladen.  His breathing trembled.  

“I can handle our next jump, if you’d like to rest,” Red offered.  For a long moment, Blisk didn’t move. At last, he heaved himself out of the pilot’s seat to stand.  

“Yeah, alright,” he murmured, already shuffling out.  Red watched him go sadly, wishing his Pilot would invite him to follow but knowing he would not.  

 

Blisk shuffled down the hall into the main bay of the ship.  There were a half-dozen berths in rows of three on either side of a long hallway that emptied out into the greater cargo area.  Blisk smirked bitterly to himself when he discerned that only two had been taken by the ship’s previous owners. He found an unused room and fell into bed without so much as loosening his belt.  

He didn’t sleep. Didn’t even consider it.  Instead, he gathered up one of the pillows into a wad and smashed his face into it.  Only then did he let out the long, anguished howl that had been kicking at his chest for the last three hours. 

He’d thought one good scream would do, but the sounds kept coming, tortured and unhinged. The dam had broke, and it all came relentlessly pouring out until, an hour or more later, he’d run himself dry.  His voice was shot, his chest ached, and eventually, he was too tired to cope any longer and passed into an aching, restless slumber. 

Up in the cockpit, Red flinched and shuddered, his scanners picking up the wretched sounds as easily as if Blisk hadn’t bothered attempting to muffle them at all.  He mourned right along with his Pilot in agonized silence as he let Blisk’s grieving run its course.  

“I’m so sorry, Kuben…” He whispered, to no-one.  “I tried…” 

 

Springtime on Harmony was the stuff of fantasy.  The entire planet was beautiful beyond compare and in some cases surreal as a dream all year ‘round, but in the springtime, especially so.  Artists had tried for centuries to paint the perfect garden, each more beautiful than the last, but none of it compared to the riot of life and color that graced the lovely little rock.   
Jack still wallowed in heartache, but upon returning home, some of its sting was soothed. 

No-one had bothered them as they landed on base.  Their ship had been secured, and they’d collected Jack’s rugged little jeep with little more than a steady chorus of polite salutations, and before long, they were well on their way down a one-lane dirt road that led away from the city and the Militia Base, driving deep into the Harmony wilderness. 

The road was barely visible through the tall green-gold grass that stretched over gently rolling plains as far as the eye could see, and the grass itself was almost invisible beneath waves and waves of flowers in a kaleidoscope of colors.  They took their time, BT driving slow so that he and Jack could enjoy the view. They even stopped several times along the way, BT humming happily as he watched Jack collect armfuls of flowers, so that, an hour later, when they arrived home at last, the back seat was overflowing with them. 

It was October 6th, and Jack's 34th birthday.  Harmony's orbit was swift, making its solar year considerably shorter than Earth's Standard, though the days were still roughly the same length thanks to a similar rotation.  Jack had never quite gotten the hang of his birthday changing seasons every two or three years but he did particularly enjoy it when it landed in spring. BT often surprised him by filling their home with flowers on his birthday, starting well before dawn so that he would wake up to every nook and cranny filled with every manner of colors, shapes, and fragrances.  This year, given the circumstances, they would happily the labor together.

They pulled off the road, and bounced their way through the wildflowers over one last rise and into a little valley, hidden between two hills, and a forest of pink and silver trees.  Nestled in the middle of this little pocket of paradise out in the middle of nowhere, was a clearing in the grass. A tiny cottage converted from shipping containers, with more windows than not, and a deck that circled three-quarters of it sat beside an only slightly smaller workshop.   Both buildings were surrounded by several acres of gardens. Jack grew his own fruits and vegetables and helped BT curate botanicals of all manner of varieties. There was even a handful of bonsai planted on wheelbarrow-sized chunks of the gravity-defying rock that Harmony was renowned for across the Frontier hovering in one corner against a fence.  Colorful songbirds gathered in their branches, and though they fell momentarily silent, they did not flee at the sight of the familiar stewards of this oasis. Jack stepped out of the jeep and circled around to BT’s side, leaning against him lovingly as he drew in a deep breath, savoring the sweet, clean air. One at a time, the birds began to sing once more.

It felt good to be home. 

He’d wanted so badly to show this to Blisk. 

BT must have felt his heart clench because he turned Jack by the shoulders to pull him into a firm embrace, dropping his head to nuzzle him gently.  He said nothing, instead reaching down the Link to suffuse Jack with love and warmth, deftly soothing the ache away. Jack returned the hug, squeezing with all of his might until the muscles in his arms burned and his hands shook, and he felt a little better for it.  There was a small patch of what looked and felt like real skin exposed where the zip to BT’s flight suit had opened somewhat, and he placed an open-mouthed kiss there. BT shivered in response, rumbling softly as his hands began to travel, caressing Jack’s back up and down in long, tender swaths.  Jack groaned softly, leaning a little more heavily into BT’s arms even as he arched his spine to press against his hands. He held on for a while longer, laying several more kisses on that scrap of skin, and one right under the lens of BT’s optic.

“Let’s get inside,” Jack whispered. “I need you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah... Back on Harmony. Maybe things will begin to improve for our boys now. And yes they are going to go bang. No, you don't get to watch, this time. X)  
> (There'll be plenty of other fics for playing skee ball (balls in holes) but this one I'm going to keep clean-ish. :) With any luck, I'll do a good enough job it'll be gratifying even without the smut.)
> 
> I had the wind knocked out of my sails today so I decided to update and make myself feel better! That said I DID rather rush this chapter, so if it feels a little sub-par...well, it probably is. X) If you notice any goofy mistakes, please let me know- I really do appreciate that kind of constructive feedback, just as much as the deliciously indulgent screeching <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for more blood this chapter and the squick-factor of someone losing an eye. Nothing too gory/beyond what I've already presented in this fic, but fair warning! <3

\--12--

"BT, they're attacking the northern continent."  The IMC was getting ballsy. Jack sat huddled over his little holocaster, watching as the planet-wide alert went out.  Harmony was under attack. 

"They're desperate.  It's a foolish decision," BT rumbled.  It was a beautiful summer day on Harmony.  Their little home was quiet. All the windows were open and a gentle breeze blew through.  The flowers in their garden and beyond were in full bloom. If it weren't for the alert, they'd have had no idea the war had crept up to their planetary doorstep. 

"I'm surprised no one's called us..." Jack murmured, still watching the footage intently. 

"We're not needed.  It's going to be a clean sweep within the hour," BT said, deftly soothing Jack's concern.  "This was a last-ditch effort. I calculate we'll have the war won within six months. A year tops." Over the last year, the Militia had gained ground by leaps and bounds.  The IMC was on its deathbed. 

"About time," Jack sighed. He turned off the news, knowing that BT would know if they were in peril long before the press would, anyway.  "Hey, do you want to- BT?"

BT had gone stock-still, his fission-green eyes distant and his lips pressed into a thin frown.  He cocked his head to one side as if he were listening to something. A transmission. Quite suddenly, his attention snapped back to Jack.

"We need to go, right now," he said, his voice dark and serious.  Jack jumped to his feet, and BT turned on his heel and strode out of the house, almost running.  Once outside, he did break into a run, Jack following close behind him as he dashed to their little shuttle fortuitously parked on the rise behind their lean-to workshop where they’d been cleaning it earlier that day. 

"BT??" Jack's voice was tight with alarm. Were they evacuating? "What is it?"

"I just got an emergency transmission from Red," BT reported, his voice taut.  He reached the shuttle, slapped the ramp down, and vaulted it before it'd dropped halfway.  By the time Jack was trotting up into the ship's shoebox-sized cargo bay, BT had the shuttle powering up.  The ramp withdrew the moment Jack stepped inside.  

"Red?!" 

"The IMC is already retreating in a hurry, but Red and Kuben are in trouble."

"They're here?!" It had been just over a Standard Year since their parting on Bohr, and they’d not heard a thing from the mercenary, or his Titan.  Jack hadn’t even been aware they’d known how to contact them. The ache of longing had numbed somewhat with time but lingered stubbornly. Hearing their names spoken aloud made Jack’s heart jump in his chest. 

"Evidently." BT wasted no time getting them airborne and barely climbed high enough to clear the slow-rising mountains to the north, plowing through the atmosphere at full-throttle. 

Only minutes after the first call, he got another distress signal from Red and shot a searching glance at Jack.  His Pilot was wide-eyed and pale and looked at BT in alarm as he caught wind of what was going through the Vanguard's mind.  He swallowed.

"Is it that bad?"

"Yes. He’s not sure we'll make it in time," BT said, his voice soft.  Jack nodded.

"Do it. I trust you." 

BT nodded curtly, seeming to suck in a deep breath.  After the barest hesitation as he double-checked his math, he initiated an in-atmosphere jump. 

 

They exited the jump thirty-thousand feet directly above the battlefield, and more specifically, Red's signal.  There was a swarm of Militia craft orbiting below, circling over the burnt out and desolate remains of the battlefield, but no-one seemed to notice their arrival.  They had a friendly transponder and friendly livery on their transport. Jack and BT weren’t the only free agents of the Militia that came and went from battles. There was no reason for anyone to look twice.  BT descended in a hurry, diving straight down and bringing them to a rough, hurried landing a dozen meters from a fallen Legion with an all-too-familiar red, white, and black custom paint job.  

BT was out of the cockpit before the ship's weight had even settled fully, and Jack again was hot on his heels as they ran to the felled Titan.

"Oh, hell," Jack got the first good look at the Legion and faltered in his steps.  

Poor Red was toppled onto his back and had only one leg, a smoking hole in his chassis, and only five of his seven optics were illuminated.  Despite this, he gave a particularly sweet chirp in greeting.

"You  _ came _ !"  The relief was evident in the gravelly baritone, and BT replied with a soft chirp of his own.  

"Is Kuben alright?!" Jack gasped.  Red's crimson optics dimmed to a dull amber.  

"No. But he is alive, for now.  He is in dire need of medical attention. Time is of the essence." With that, the Legion reached up and pried his own cockpit open, carelessly casting the canopy door aside.  BT didn't hesitate as he bounded up the side of Red's chassis, making the climb far faster than a human could. Jack hung back on the ground to make the call for help. He fidgeted anxiously as he held his comm, his weight shifting from foot to foot as he waited for the signal to connect.  He rehearsed his story, and his argument in his head, feeling like a kid about to confess to his mother how her prized china had gotten broken. He sounded just as small and scared, too, when the call finally made it through.

"Sarah... I really  _ really _ need your help, but you're not going to like it..." 

 

BT got up to the cockpit and groaned.  There was blood splattered everywhere and a significant part of the interior was catastrophically concave.  Pinned between his seat and the collapsed armored wall lay Blisk, delirious and barely conscious, with one side of his face so bloodied none of his features were immediately identifiable. An enormous gash crossed from his forehead across his face to the opposite cheekbone, blood flowing freely from it, and it looked like he'd lost an eye. BT worried his legs were at least broken, if not crushed completely. 

"Oh, shit," BT moaned.  

Blisk's one good eye rolled to focus on BT, and he somehow seemed to recognize him even though there was no way Blisk could have ever seen BT's face. For the briefest moment, he greeted BT with a heartbreakingly sweet smile.  A heartbeat later, however, it drooped into a frown, and then the merc was screaming in pure rage.

"GODDAMNIT RED! YOU CALLED THEM, DIDN'T YOU?! AH TOLD YA NOT TA, DAMN IT!" BT watched in horror as Blisk raised one shaking fist to pummel the cockpit wall angrily as he continued to berate Red, who only groaned and shook. 

"You need to live, Kuben," Red moaned.  Blisk wasn't having any of it.

"NOT LIKE THIS! THIS ISN'T LIVIN' RED! HOW DARE YOU DRAG THEM INTO THIS! HOW TH' FUCKIN-"  

"Hey..." BT barely spoke above a whisper, but Blisk stopped mid-tirade. Tears of rage gushed, running wet streaks through the blood on his face and backing up into his sinus cavity, making him cough and sputter. 

"Please let them help us, Kuben," Red begged.  Blisk seemed to sag, looking tired in an unhealthy sort of way, and nodded. His head dropped back, and, panting, he turned back to BT, giving him a soggy, one-eyed stare.

"Tha' you, BT?" Blisk whispered. He was turning gray fast, his fit of rage burning out what few ounces of reserved strength he'd been holding onto. 

"Yeah, it's me," BT sighed, carefully sliding into the cockpit next to Blisk to have a closer look.  

"Ya look good," Blisk wheezed, giving him a bloodied smile. 

"Thank you. You look like hell."

"Feel like hell," Blisk groaned. "Can't see," he added, closing his good eye for emphasis. He sounded shaken.  "Legs 'r stuck."

"I'm pretty sure your eye's gone, Kuben," BT said, grimacing sympathetically.  Blisk only nodded in bitter acceptance but also turned somewhat green at the thought. 

"Feels gone," he said, his face twitching on that side.  He visibly resisted the urge to lift his hand to check by feel, and instead let out a shaky breath.  

From below, Jack had finally clambered up.

"They're on their way," he said, then finally had a look at Blisk. "Oh,  _ Kuben _ ..." 

Blisk's face crumpled, and he turned his head away.  

"Ah've been worse.  _ You've _ seen me worse," he huffed, rallying for Jack.  Overhead, a Militia  _ Widow _ circled, and Blisk tipped his attention upward.

"Help is coming," Jack said, noticing the direction of the merc's gaze. Blisk frowned, looking back at Jack. Fresh blood gushed from the gash in his face as his brows knit.  Jack grimaced. Behind them, the Militia craft settled down between Red and their shuttle.

"Whaddaya mean..." Blisk rumbled, wary.  

"Trust us," BT said emphatically, glancing over his shoulder as the armored doors of the  _ Widow _ parted, revealing several figures inside. Only one stepped out. "Jack, get down there and talk to her.  I'm going to see if I can get Kuben out." Jack nodded and disappeared from their view. 

"Whas goin' on..." Blisk was frowning at BT.

"Jack is cashing in a favor," BT said.  He eased into the cockpit with Blisk, slipping into the gap between the pilot's seat and the side panels, silently grateful that someone had designed the Legion chassis so spaciously. He crouched down, examining where that space narrowed down to nearly nothing just below Blisk's chest. On closer inspection, it looked to be by some miracle that the encroaching panels hadn't been pushed very far against his body.  A passive scan indicated several breaks and fractures to his ribs and legs and some suspect internal bleeding, but he was not crushed as BT had initially feared. With timely help, he would heal.

"Gonna take more than a 'favor' ta keep yer friends from shootin' me on sight," Blisk whispered.

"After Typhon," BT murmured, wiggling down to brace his shoulder against the bulkhead, one foot wedged up near Blisk's head.  He pushed, the metal groaning as he forced it back a few precious millimeters with sheer mechanical strength. "...Commander Briggs told Jack she would do anything for him, in gratitude.  He never accepted any of her offers. Not money. Not a promotion, or fame, or a multitude of material gifts. He doesn't want to be rewarded for what he did, and I don't think he would have ever asked for anything from her.  She's a general now, and no-doubt led today's victory for the Militia. Her followers are spirited and devoted. Her word to them is law. If she says don’t shoot, they won’t. If Jack asks her to stand down, she will. You just watch." 

Blisk said nothing.  It was impressive and all, but his and Briggs' beef went back much further than Jack’s good graces did.  He was certain that they had just inadvertently signed his death sentence. Tired resignation flooded over his features. So be it.  This is what he’d wanted, anyway, and a swift execution was almost ideal compared to bleeding out slowly, he reckoned.

 He gasped, whimpering slightly as BT cozied in to slide his arms under Blisk's body and carefully lift him from his seat. "Easy, Kuben," BT whispered. "I am aware of your history with the General. We will not let you come to further harm, or go lightly into the Militia's custody. You are safe," he finished firmly, standing.  Down below, they could see Jack and the General standing close together as they spoke. Both were tense. BT made a quiet, thoughtful sound. "No one else knows I survived Typhon," he said, seemingly offhand. He adjusted his grip on Blisk somewhat, nestling him a little more snugly against his synthetic, but very human, body. "This could be interesting." 

Blisk snorted softly.  "Don't show yer whole hand jus' fer me..." 

"Why not?" BT countered, making the merc frown.  "Please hold on, I'm going to drop down and I don't want to jostle you more than necessary," BT warned, plowing past his question before Blisk could attempt further argument. Instead, Blisk was forced to throw his arms around BT's shoulders and hold on as the bot stepped out of the cockpit and, with a single step, dropped down to the tattered soil before.  Even with the big Legion on its back, it was an easy two or three meters down, but BT landed lightly without so much as a grunt, his reinforced knees taking his and Blisk's weight and momentum without difficulty. 

Briggs and Jack had been talking in hushed tones, but both stopped and turned.  Jack's face softened considerably, but the General's hardened. 

" _ Blisk. _ " She hissed the name, cold and unfriendly.  Her hand drifted toward her sidearm. Blisk tensed in BT's arms, but the Vanguard held his ground.

"It's good to see you again," BT rumbled, soft and friendly.  Jack edged sideways to place himself between them, his eyes darting between her face and her weapon. Brigg's face scrunched up, her brows knitting. 

"Who're you," she demanded, the lines at her eyes deepening as they narrowed suspiciously. "And why the hell do you think I should help  _ him _ ?" 

"You don't recognize me?" BT all but purred. "Even Kuben here put it together faster.  I'm almost hurt." Briggs faltered, the cogs almost visibly turning behind her eyes as she looked between Jack and BT for answers. "You've never doubted my judgment of character with Jack," BT hinted.  He held her gaze, willing her to notice the unnatural blue-green hue of his eyes that directly reflected the shade of his old datacore, to remember his unchanged voice. Her eyes widened. He smiled. The General briefly looked like she might faint, disbelief, shock, and even joy rushed across her features in rapid-fire as she registered just who she was talking to.  Weirdly, it was his eyes that gave it away, more so even than the voice of an old friend. 

"I've had some work done," he chuckled, watching her silently mouth his name. "Please do this for us," he pressed.  Her face cleared.

" _ Why _ ?!" She snapped, fiery once more as the shock of BT’s appearance passed.  It was true, she had always trusted BT's judgment of character, but now that trust wavered. "I love you and Jack both but give me just  _ one _ good reason why I shouldn't shoot the bastard right here, let alone  _ help _ him?!" 

BT opened his mouth to respond, already calculating the most reasonable argument he could, but Jack had already intervened.

"Look!" He turned to Blisk, still suspended in BT's arms and watching in wary silence.  Without warning, Jack had his hands on him, opening buckles and tearing away armor, Blisk squawking feebly in protest until the younger Pilot had his shirt pushed up.  "See that!" Jack pointed to what was clearly a bullet-wound scar over the other man's ribs, white and glossy with newness against dark purple blotches of bruised skin. Blisk fell still and silent, clinging to BT unconsciously as he registered the point Jack was about to make.  "This is from when he took a bullet for me last year!" Jack made sure Briggs saw, then let Blisk's clothing fall back into place, turning away from him to face her. His eyes flashed with that rare ferocity, and even the General seemed to cow slightly from such intensity. "Someone recognized me and thought he'd cash in on my bounty.  _ Blisk _ took the shot meant for me, even though he’d had days to claim the hit on me himself!"  He didn’t bother to explain when this happened, or how Blisk had been allowed any time at all to potentially take the hit on Jack, let alone several days’ worth. Hopefully, she’d forget to ask.

Briggs looked terribly taken aback, and her resolve faltered.

“He had the perfect opportunity to off BT and I back on Typhon too, and instead, he let us go,” Jack plowed on, gaining momentum. “Yeah we got the Fold Weapon, but  _ he _ saved Harmony, not us!” Brigg’s jaw dropped, but before she could say anything, Blisk rallied again to interrupt.

“Ah did not!” Blisk blurted, Jack’s words shaking him almost as much as they shook Briggs. 

"Shush," BT murmured.  Blisk had started to squirm as if he planned to fight his way out of BT's grip. 

"You said anything," Jack went on, dropping his voice as he stared back at Briggs.  "Did you mean it or not?"

"No!" Blisk gasped, twisting his shoulders and goosing BT with an elbow to the chest.  BT grunted softly for effect but didn't let go. "Jus' put me down an' let me die already!" His voice, already shrill from pain, broke on the words. "Don't waste your favors, Jack, an' especially don't waste them on  _ me _ !" He coughed, wheezing, but then somehow managed to wiggle his way out of the Vanguard's cautious grip.  His weight landed on broken legs and he let out a muted cry as he crumpled into a heap at BT's feet.

"Kuben!" Jack turned his back on Briggs and hurried over to the merc's side, helping BT to roll him onto his back.  Blisk's chest heaved, and tiny, barely audible whines of agony were escaping with each ragged breath. His good eye rolled as he struggled to focus on Jack's face.  "I'm not letting you die, asshole," Jack murmured, his voice dark and fond, and mildly exasperated. "I still owe you one. I'm not letting you bail out early." 

 

Briggs stood by, watching in awe as Jack and BT gathered around the wounded mercenary, her eyes wide with shock and confusion.  She'd been ready to go home and celebrate a tremendous victory fifteen minutes ago, but now their total sweep of IMC forces seemed like such a distant and forgotten thing.  She knew Jack well. They were as close to family as either of them had anymore. She worried about him. A lot. He was distant and almost too quiet to begin with, and Jack had withdrawn more and more during the last year.  He'd become permeated with a sadness she couldn't quite explain or identify, but had chalked up to loneliness. 

Now she watched that same sorrowful aura vanish, despite the tension, as he and BT huddled over  _ Kuben Blisk _ , of all people, as if he were a felled lover. The gears aligned and fell into place as she watched.  Jack was a quiet guy, but he spoke volumes with his body language. How he tilted his head in deference, the gentle slope to his shoulders and the deep curve to his spine as he bent as low as he could over the other man.  The look of sympathetic pain on his face. She took a couple of tentative steps closer to the trio, staring down at her sworn enemy in shock as Jack gently dabbed some of the blood and grime out of Blisk’s good eye with his sleeve as the merc reeled, wheezing and coughing in pain. 

"I'll do it," she said, soft and clear. 

Blisk's bloodied face scrunched up in a dramatic wince, and he grit his teeth. He held his breath for a count of ten, and then let it shakily out.  His gaze drifted, and he was grayer than ever. 

"Awright,” he said, “Let ‘em have me.” 

It was BT that nodded as if a deal had been sealed. 

"That's it, Kuben.  You're going to be okay." He fixed Briggs a searching look, and she nodded.  "We need to get moving," BT warned. “Jack, get up there and collect Red," BT went on, his tone taking on that edge of command.  "I'll stay with Kuben."

Jack reluctantly pulled away and stood, and he and BT exchanged glances, more being communicated in that fleeting moment than words could allow.  Jack gave a crisp nod and turned, hurrying to climb back up Red's chassis to extract his Datacore. 

Blisk made a tiny sound from the back of his throat, shuddering hard, and then passed out.  BT clucked his tongue and carefully gathered the big man up in his arms again. Briggs was still staring at him in awe, her eyes darting from Blisk to BT's handsome face and back. He gave her a particularly warm smile.

"Let's go," he said softly.  Behind them, Red had started to talk, his voice full of static, but high with happiness as he showered Jack in gratitude.

"I knew you'd come! Oh, thank you...! Thank you, you dear, blessed man...!"

"Easy, Red..." Jack chuckled. "I'm going to take you home, alright?"  BT chuckled softly as he overheard this, but nodded to the General, letting her lead him back to the ship.  

“Thank you, General,” he rumbled.  She snorted, waving him off flippantly.  
“You owe me for this, BT,” she said with a sigh, looking back over her shoulder to smile at him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This poor fucker can't catch a break at ALL. 
> 
> I had most of this chapter written before I'd finished chapter 5, but then this one's also given me absolute hell. I've re-worked it at least six or seven times. Big thanks to Pilot Ryan for doing a sanity check for me because I wasn't certain I was making sense anymore!
> 
> I always say this and then pull it off anyway but I MIIIIGHT take a little longer than usual to post chapter 13 because I'm traveling most of this week. Taking a 6-hr road trip and dropping in on my dad for his 68th birthday X) Haven't seen my folks since April so I'm pretty stoked! BUT(T) they don't know I uhmm... WRITE...s oooo probably no sneaky updates happening lmao ( ´ ▽ ` ')


	13. Chapter 13

\--13--

The cluster of soldiers that waited in the bay of the  _ Widow _ watched Briggs and BT approach with wide eyes. Some managed to keep their faces fairly neutral, but most of them did not.  Curiosity, shock, and fear mingled together in their collective expressions. BT heard one of them murmur Blisk's name darkly.

"You are to treat these men as your own," Briggs said, her tone turning hard and authoritative.  "Administer any and all first aid necessary to ensure he survives." For this she got a series of dumbfounded blinks, but also the due chorus of, "Yes, Sir," and she nodded acceptance.  Satisfied, she turned on her heel and, with a final glance at BT, disappeared into the cockpit.  

A trio of medics immediately swarmed around BT and his charge.  The ship shuddered, the bay doors closing as it began to lift off.  Back on the ground, BT caught one last glimpse of Jack, his face turned upward as he watched them go, Red's softly glowing Datacore cradled against his chest.  BT caught his eye and gave him a little finger-wave.

 A cot was set up, and Blisk groaned as he was taken from BT's arms.  Splints were made, several IV bags with fluids, medicine, and blood were set up.  Blisk flinched, his good eye fluttering open briefly as an auto-injector was pressed into his forearm, but moments later he was fully unconscious yet again.  The ragged beeping of a heart monitor gradually stabilized into a slow, steady beat, and two men and one woman all set to work cutting away armor and clothes.  Blood-soaked fatigues and armor were all pulled away from Blisk’s body, along with several knives, his trusted  _ Wingman _ , and a crumpled and twisted ballistic slug hung on a long silver chain that BT surreptitiously snatched up and pocketed. 

"Jesus," someone murmured, a ripple of horror passing through the group at large as the crinkled and twisted mess of Blisk's mangled chest was revealed. There were several other soft oaths of sympathy as more and more of Blisk's violent history was revealed across his body. Notably, several new, deliberately crisscrossing scars marred both of Blisk’s muscular thighs in long, consistent lines.  BT frowned, clucking his tongue at the sight of them. Nobody else made a comment on those as an uncomfortable silence fell across the group. BT made a silent mental note to discuss that with Blisk later.

For today, Blisk appeared to have taken a number of hard knocks and scrapes during the event that had felled Red, his now exposed body presenting dark bruises and oozing shrapnel wounds all over.  BT watched everything carefully in polite silence as they got to work cleaning and dressing the multitude of injuries. If anyone noticed that he kept one hand on Blisk's shoulder at all times, it politely wasn't mentioned.  No-one argued when he helped himself to Blisk’s weapons, either. 

By the time they’d made the flight back to the Liberty Base Hospital, Blisk was cleaned up, stabilized, swathed in a thermal blanket and resting peacefully.  BT quietly sent Jack a message reporting as much. Blisk wasn't out of the woods yet, but he was no longer in peril. 

"Your uh...  _ friend _ ... is one tough sonnavua bitch, there, Mister uhhh...?" 

BT looked up from watching Blisk's slack face. It was the first time anyone had addressed him the entire flight. 

"Cooper," BT said smoothly.  

" _ The _ Cooper?!" Someone asked.  The ship settled down onto the landing pad, and the bay doors snapped open.  

“Not exactly," BT chuckled, raising a number of confused sounds. He offered no other explanation.  He stood politely as the General swept in and stuck close to Blisk's side as she led a quartet of soldiers carrying the cot out to a group of doctors waiting on the edge of the ramp.  

 

BT never left Blisk's side.  This vexed the medical professionals something terrible, but after vetting from General Briggs, they had no power to send him away.  He kept out of the way, not once interfering as they worked, but he didn't leave, either. Even when Blisk went into surgery, BT stood by, watching carefully.  He was still watching when the mercenary was administered a second, and third dose of sedatives so that he never once woke through two days, several reconstructive procedures, and, finally, when everything else was on the mend, his ruined eye was addressed.  

 

At last, three intense days after his rescue, Blisk was brought to recovery and allowed to come to in his own time.  

"He'll be mobile by the time the anesthesia wears off, but he's going to have to take it slow for a good week or longer.  You'll understand, of course, that we just can't spare the additional accelerated healing resources when he's...not one of our own." The doctor who'd been overseeing everything was an older gentleman, with thick, wavy hair that was more silver than the jet black it'd once been, and he had keen gray eyes behind reading glasses he wore almost constantly.  He was one of the few who knew the identity of the man in his care...and who BT was. 

BT nodded.  They'd done their best work on Blisk, despite who he was.  He knew the merc was well used to pain: a few more days of it wouldn't do him in. It was a fair compromise.

"Understood," he rumbled, satisfied. 

"We have, however, begun work on a functioning prosthetic for the eye," the doctor went on.  BT's eyebrows went up in surprise. Blisk had received all of the standard neural connectors that would allow the use of a cybernetic eye, but the Titan had not expected the Militia to spare the resources for actually producing one for him.  "The General hopes such an act of charity might help buy us an ally..." he explained. BT smiled.

"It very well might," he agreed. 

"Really?" The Doctor asked, following BT's gaze over to where Blisk slumbered, still hours from regaining consciousness. There was still thick bandaging over half of his face, for now. 

"There are plenty of good men in our history that were caught in bad situations, just waiting for the opportunity to escape the sticky vacuum of the IMC's power," BT said thoughtfully.  "I believe Kuben may be one of them." For the very first time, the Doctor's stern countenance softened.

"That's a relief to hear," he said, smiling somewhat.  "Especially from you, sir." BT smiled back, his eyes crinkling merrily at the corners.  

"You flatter me, but thank you." 

 

Blisk squinted one-eyed up at the ceiling, trying, with little success, to remember where he was.  

_ AGAIN. _

Why did this keep happening to him!?

Everything... _ everything _ hurt.  What had he gone and done  _ this _ time?

His brain felt cottony, making it far too difficult to string two cohesive thoughts together, and his stomach was doing horrible, unhappy flops. Bone-deep throbs beat in his legs, face, and side in time with his pulse.  There was no way he was going to be able to concentrate through all of that, and he eventually gave up trying to remember what had happened. He  _ knew _ there was some cause for alarm, but he just couldn't remember  _ what _ .  He let out a queasy belch and a groan, the tiny disturbance enough to send a fresh wave of pain through his body.

Fuck, it hurt something awful.

"Welcome back, Kuben." 

Blisk's head swung to the right, following the voice with a startle, and he suddenly remembered with a hard slap of horror that  _ his eye was gone  _ or he'd have noticed BT sitting right beside him, well into his peripheral vision if he'd had any.   Somewhere in the gluey fog smothering his brain, a dim little lightbulb went on.

His eye.

_ Fuck. _

The battle.

_ Fuck! _

Jack. The Militia.

The _Militia_ had him!  
_Fuck!!_

Blisk jerked, already scrambling for purchase where he lay, his first instinct to make a break for safety. BT was on his feet in an instant and gently planted his palms over either of Blisk's shoulders, holding him firmly in place in the bed where he lay.  

" _ Easy _ ," BT rumbled, low and soothing.  "Easy. You've been out for three days.  You are on the mend, and most importantly, you are  _ safe _ ." Blisk shuddered, his stomach lurching again, but subsided under the subtle pressure of BT’s hands.  He just couldn’t summon the strength to fight. A little whimper escaped him between rapid, gasping breaths, and Blisk stared wide-eyed up at BT.  Blind panic was rapidly approaching as his last waking memories began to resurface through his sedative-muddied memory. 

" _ Kuben.  _ Turn your head and look at me," BT commanded, giving his shoulder a squeeze.  Blisk had screwed his good eye shut as he struggled to cope with the shot of irrational fear squeezing his chest, and it took several seconds for him to compose himself enough to comply. “Deep breaths, Kuben” BT whispered, murmuring steady words of encouragement as Blisk fumbled for calm.

It was just BT, Blisk rationalized. 

BT was safe.  

BT was the safest person he knew.

Slowly, his breath still hitching and catching, he turned, his gaze traveling from one of the middle buttons on the Militia BDU shirt BT wore all the way up to his well-defined jaw, complete with a goatee reminiscent of Jack's, sculpted cheekbones, and captivating blue-green eyes so striking they made his galloping heart stutter just a little.  BT held his stare evenly, a tiny, friendly smile playing at his lips. Blisk let out a hard, shaky breath as control returned.

"BT…” He groaned the name in relief.  “Ya look good," Blisk said, his voice croaking with rust. It hadn't entirely been BT's intention, but it seemed his appearance alone had distracted Blisk out of a panic attack. “Ah’d recognize ya anywhere.” 

"Thank you," BT purred, his smile brightening. Blisk smiled a bit dopily back as he noticed BT's straight, pearl-white teeth and even the wet glimmer of healthy pink gums behind the curve of his lips.  He was high as a kite from all the pain medications and sedatives, not to mention the fear-bolstered shot of adrenaline, and now found himself getting weirdly caught up in the tiniest details. Was that a freckle hiding on his tanned skin?  Blisk liked how the skin folded and crinkled slightly at the corner of BT’s eyes when he smiled.

"You're looking considerably better than the last time we spoke, as well," BT rumbled, gracefully ignoring Blisk's sudden fixation on him.  He was well aware the merc was still coming off of all the substances they'd kept him pumped full of, and if it was keeping his attention enough to remain calm, BT didn't mind. 

"Thanks... Ah think..." Blisk mumbled, distracted. "Tha' all your design?" He went on thickly, his accent dense and his words somewhat slurred.  "'S real pretty eyes..." BT chuckled.

"Yes, it is. And thank you, Kuben," he said indulgently.  

"Nice work.  Like th’... uh..." Blisk trailed off, and his brow scrunched up, his dreamy countenance turning frustrated. "Ugh," he said, finally looking away. "S-sorry.  Ah’m fuckin… fucked." With a huge amount of effort, he managed to wiggle one arm out from under the blanket draped over him, and he gave the uninjured side of his face a firm rub-down in an attempt to clear his head.  "Can't think..." His panic, at least, was long-forgotten. 

"Just relax and let it run its course, Kuben," BT said gently, still not bothering to hide his amused grin.  "Sleep it off if you can. Once you're a little clearer-headed we can go home." 

Blisk nodded, but slow confusion dawned over his face.  

"Home?" 

"With Jack and I," BT supplied. "At least until you're back on your feet.  Red is with us, also." 

Blisk's usually guarded expressions now ran rampant, and BT could read each one as it crossed his features with as much ease as he could Jack’s.  More confusion, longing, relief, but then also bitter resignation and even sadness. "Or, as long as you like," BT added, "But we can discuss that more when you're feeling better.  For now, rest assured the Militia is releasing you into our "custody"-" he added air-quotes with his fingers for emphasis, and Blisk's reassurance. "-and as such, you'll be free to do as you like once you've recovered." 

That was a lot for Blisk to take in, addled as he was, and he squinted blearily, trying to process this information.

"Oh..." He said at last, giving BT a slow, drowsy blink. "Thank you..." He trailed off into silence, and it eventually became evident that was all he had to say on the matter for now. For several minutes he continued to watch BT, observing him quietly, but it was clear he was having an increasingly difficult time maintaining his focus.  

" _ Rest _ , Kuben.  I'm not going anywhere until you're ready," BT said emphatically.  Blisk stared at him a little longer, and two or three times, his lips worked silently as if he had something to say, but never spoke up.  Eventually, under BT's watchful guard, he drifted back into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! The road trip was only 4 days but I had an absolute bitch of a time getting this chapter put together in a way I liked, not to mention struggled to focus on editing/proofing it in the first place. It could probably use another look-over but I need to just move on, I think. X)
> 
> I think I've lived my whole life to write Blisk stoned off his ass on meds. With any luck he'll never, EVER live that down <3 X)


	14. Chapter 14

\--14--

 

When Blisk woke again, several hours later, he was immediately much more alert.  He sat up slowly with a groan, rubbing his face again, though he flinched when his fingers grazed the fresh bandages over the gash on his forehead.  He prodded it gently, testing the size, and the sting of it. BT watched him from his new station at the foot of the bed, and their eyes met through Blisk's fingers briefly.  Blisk gave him a thin smile. "Don't remember how Ah got this one..." He murmured, tracing it down and across until he got to the orbit of his right eye. He hesitated, but then went on, tracing over the bandaging that proved, as he expected, to be slightly concave over the flat space where his eye should have been. A fresh wave of nausea hit him, and Blisk dropped his hand abruptly.  "Don't s'pose th' nanites kin fix this..." He breathed. His hands had turned clammy and he impulsively wiped them on the sheets trying to scrub the sickly sensation away. 

"Unfortunately, no," BT replied, standing and crossing the recovery room to stand by Blisk's side.  He carefully positioned himself where Blisk would be able to see him easily. "But you have a glass eye available to you now if you want it, and a prosthetic being built.  However, I haven't been informed of when we can expect its completion, yet."

Blisk looked entirely taken aback.

"They're building me an eye?" It was mainstream enough technology, but he knew that building a functional, artificial eyeball took considerable time and material resources. It was not the kind of commodity he expected the Militia to spare him.

"A gesture of goodwill," BT answered, smiling. "And likely evidence that sweet Jack has been pestering the General while I've been away," he added, his grin turning almost devious.  

Blisk's face did another rapid shift as several emotions filed through in quick succession. Fondness for Jack, mild embarrassment that the younger Pilot might still be lobbying on his behalf, and a hint of bitter longing. 

"Tha' li'll shit, bless 'im," Blisk drawled, a crooked little smile crawling across his lips.  BT nodded in agreement, his own smile softening with love. 

"How are you feeling?" He asked, looking Blisk over carefully.  Blisk thought on this.

"Like shit," he said honestly, after a pause. "Hurt like hell.  Might puke? But better," he added, looking around the tidy little hospital room.  "You said we kin go?" He asked hopefully, after a moment. "Ah don't like hospitals much." BT nodded, encouraged by Blisk’s renewed clarity, as entertaining as his earlier drunken stupor had been.

"Yes. I'm summoning your doctor now to verify you're on the mend, and we'll get going."

Blisk nodded but looked concerned.

"Unless you'd prefer privacy, I intend to stay right here with you," BT added, not missing his expression.  "I do not believe anyone here will make an attempt against your well being, but given the circumstances, a lack of caution would be an unnecessary risk.  Best not to tempt fate, yes?"

Something like adoration passed across Blisk's face before he schooled his expression back into something more neutral.  BT gets it, he thought. 

"Ah'd appreciate that," he said quietly. 

There was a knock, and the door swooshed open with a soft puff of air, and the same doctor that BT had been shadowing through Blisk’s entire visit appeared. Blisk did his best not to look tense, but couldn't avoid tossing a glance at BT, who gave him the faintest nod of reassurance.

The Doctor gave him a professionally kind smile, and stepped into the room, but stopped short of the bed by several steps. 

"You've survived quite the ordeal, Mister Blisk," the Doctor said.  "Do you have any questions for me, or has um-" he glanced at BT questioningly.  The bot went by an alias most of the time, and he was one of the privileged few who knew who and what he actually was. He hadn’t suspected that Blisk was as well.

"BT is fine," BT rumbled approvingly. The Doctor’s eyebrows went up.

"-Or has BT filled you in?" He finished hesitantly.  Blisk offered a little shrug, his embarrassed smile bemused.  He didn’t know why BT trusted him so, either.

"Jus' th' eye so far," Blisk murmured.  “Ah kin guess th’ rest from how everythin' else feels, though," he added with a feeble attempt at a chuckle.  He was starkly aware that at this moment his life might very well depend on his ability to act nice. Surely BT’s clout could only carry him so far. The Doctor nodded, stepping up to Blisk's side.   _ Baker _ said the name tag on his coat. Blisk frowned, realizing he was a bit near-sighted in his left, and remaining eye.

"A full break of the left fibula," he waved his clipboard toward Blisk's legs, "and two separate fractures in either femur.  Three cracked ribs. Twelve and eleven on the right, and number seven on the left. There were some internal punctures, but a lucky miss for your lungs.  You've also received a mighty blow to the old gourd, there," he tapped his own forehead, indicating the gash crossing Blisk's face. "Frankly, you're very lucky that your skull wasn't split like a coconut, and that all you lost was an eye."

"Nice an' thick, there," Blisk quipped.  Dr. Baker chuckled, nodding.

"Indeed.  You might notice a dent, however, when it's healed.  All joking aside, I must stress you have been severely concussed.  Of all your injuries, it was  _ that _ one that would have killed you if it'd been any more serious.  Please keep this in mind as you're recovering, and take extra care to heal fully before you attempt any type of exertion whatsoever." Blisk grimaced, and the Doctor turned his attention to BT.    "Monitor him for the evidence of possible clotting, and bring him back here  _ immediately  _ if there’s any concern, or even doubt _."  _

_ " _ Yes, Sir," BT rumbled.

The Doctor then proceeded to give Blisk one last looking-over, the mercenary sitting patiently as bandages were changed, carefully refusing to flinch as he was poked and prodded here and there, though he did issue a deadpan, "Ouch." once or twice to indicate the sorest places.  At last, Dr. Baker stepped back, looking satisfied.

"Good. Let me go collect a few items and some fresh clothing for you, and you'll be free to go." Only then, and only for a split second, did the Doctor's face betray him with little more than the faintest twitch of his lips and eyebrows as he said the word "free". He couldn't believe they were just cutting a notorious murderer loose back into the world...and on Harmony, no less.

"Thank you, Doctor," BT said, casually inserting himself between Blisk and the other man.  Baker seemed to have caught his slip, his attention snapping back to BT as a tiny wince flickered across his face.  He turned back to Blisk, and this time his smile was genuine if a shade unfriendly. "BT has generously been your stalwart guardian through the entirety of your stay with us, Mister Blisk. Not once for even a moment has he left your side.  There aren't many men privileged with such dedication. You're fortunate."

"It's simply one of the perks of lacking the physiological impediments of an organic body, Doctor," BT purred, taking a small step forward and not-quite crowding him.  The Doctor took an unconscious step back, and then another as BT subtly herded him away from Blisk.

"Ah'll make sure ta thank 'im properly," Blisk whispered, watching carefully as the Doctor finally turned and left the room. “Somehow.”

 BT stood his ground until the door closed and they were alone again.

"That went better than I expected," he said brightly, only then returning to Blisk's side.

"You've really been with me th' whole time?" Blisk asked, despite himself.  BT smiled kindly and nodded.

"Of course. I promised you I would ensure your safety, Kuben." 

Blisk looked away, his mind racing as he processed this.

"Thank you," he breathed. "An'...thanks fer comin' for me... It's good ta see ya, too.  Th' last year's been-" He cut off as the door slid open once more, Dr. Baker returning with a number of items gathered into his arms.  Blisk shut up, withholding whatever it was he'd been about to say.

The Doctor did not attempt to approach Blisk again.  Instead, he took the shorter path to BT.

"Clothes," a stack of gray and black folded fabric was dropped into BT's arms.  "Splints," two gangling apparatuses of plastic, straps, and metal, were added next. A set of crutches followed, which BT leaned into the crook of his arm.  "A brace for the ribs," another mess of fabric and straps, "And this," Dr. Baker finished, dropping a small box onto the very top of the pile forming in BT’s arms.  BT worked the clothes and braces under his other arm, and, his hands freed, cracked open the box, peeking inside. "Keep him off his feet," the Doctor instructed. "All the breaks have been set and bonded, so he can walk, but don’t let him get carried away."  Blisk huffed indignantly from his seat on the bed. BT chuckled and nodded.

"Noted. Thank you."

"There's a jeep waiting for you when you're ready, and a chair outside so he doesn't have to walk that far." With another nod from BT, Dr. Baker turned on his heel and strode out, glad to be done. 

 

Blisk was watching BT with interest as he turned to him, but neither said a word until the door had closed once more.

"Glass eye," BT explained, waving the box in his hand. Blisk's nose wrinkled slightly, and noting his reaction, BT simply pocketed the box for the time being.  "Are you familiar with these?" he went on, approaching with the braces. Blisk nodded.

"Had somethin' like that fer my knees," he said.  He'd ruined both in his twenties and had to replace most of the soft tissue.  BT nodded and propped the crutches against the bed before stepping back.

"Would you like privacy while you dress?" He offered, but Blisk had already pulled the blanket away, revealing large, splotchy bruises all over his body.  Unbothered by how he looked or who saw, he got to work fastening the splints to his legs.

"Yeh’ve prob'ly seen it all already, yeah?" He said, shrugging off the offer.  BT huffed out a soft laugh.

"This is true," he agreed, but still turned partly away until Blisk had wiggled into the generic loose sweats and tee.  He made a grab for the crutches and levered his weight against them as he cautiously eased off the bed. BT watched intently, inching closer but not intervening as Blisk slowly extended the slightly-less-broken leg first, groaning softly as he put more and more of his weight onto it.

"Shit," Blisk gasped, leaning hard on the crutches as he stood.  "Fuck me thas' tender..." he groused, panting softly. His skin had turned a clammy gray and was on its way to blanching white as BT watched. 

"Stay there, Kuben," BT huffed, hurrying to the door.  He found a wheelchair waiting just outside and returned with it.  Blisk's nose crinkled again, but he didn't argue at all as BT helped him sit.  "I can get something for you for the pain if you'd like," he offered, watching Blisk's face closely as he sat reeling.  Blisk shook his head.

"Jus wanna leave," he admitted.  

BT nodded and took station behind him, turning the chair toward the door, but paused to lay his hands warmly over Blisk's shoulders from behind.  Blisk went rigid, then relaxed as BT squeezed gently, massaging just a little of the tension away. 

"I understand," BT said, returning his hands to the handlebars of the chair and pushing him out.  "Let's get out of here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was kind of a filler chapter sorry but it didn't really fit at the end of the last chapter, or the beginning of the next sooooo... have a quickie transition and then we'll be back onto our regularly scheduled mayhem soon!  
> ... Provided I still have power. Call of hands, which of my lovely readers out there that live anywhere other than California have heard about our "Public Safety Power Shutoffs" in the news?! Luckily I live pretty deep into a dense metropolitan area so while a lot of friends and family down have electricity tonight, I'm here with all the lights on posting shitty updates on my fic.


	15. Chapter 15

\--15--

BT hadn't asked for a driver, but General Sarah Briggs was seated at the wheel of the jeep he'd requested as he rolled Blisk out of the hospital.  

"Interesting," BT murmured, drawing to a cautious stop well short of the vehicle.  The door opened, and the General stepped out. BT circled around to stand between her and Blisk. 

"Good afternoon, General," BT purred, polite and wearing a friendly smile. She'd been staring at Blisk again, but turned her eyes to BT and smiled back sweetly.

"BT..." She closed the distance between them, greeting the Vanguard with a hug.  "I can't tell you how happy it makes me to hear your voice again." She pulled back and then planted a firm punch to his chest right over where his heart would be. "But you're an asshole for holding out on me!" BT gasped and laughed, but didn’t so much as flinch. She was still smiling, and now rubbing her knuckles sorely as she laughed. "I've already let Jack have it as well, of course!" She added. BT chuckled fondly.

"Of course," he cooed, grinning.  "Your ferocity is what's winning us this war, General."

"Just Sarah, please!" She countered, cringing at the title.  

"Certainly, General Just-Sarah," BT countered, making her shriek in mortification and punch him again, even as she broke into tittering laughter. BT let fly a bright belly laugh, throwing his head back in delight. 

Blisk watched the exchange warily, but couldn't help but smile when BT laughed. It was a cute joke. He chuckled softly, but cut off as Briggs' gaze snapped back to him at the sound, her expression turning sharp. 

"You're really going to take that bastard home with you,” she said.  It wasn't a question, and her lip curled slightly as she continued to examine Blisk.  He stared blandly back, too tired and in too much pain to clap back. "That you'd let him anywhere near Jack-"

Blisk shifted in his seat, going hot with rage that she would suggest he'd-

"He won't hurt Jack, or anyone else," BT said firmly. Blisk let his weight fall back again, and he blew out a silent breath.  Briggs' eyes narrowed as she searched his face, and for a long minute, Blisk stubbornly stared back before looking away. 

"Couldn't even if Ah wanted ta," he breathed. "Which ah  _ don't _ ." It was clear on her face that she didn't believe him.  "Ah don't have ta convince ya," He went on, gasping as he stood slowly.  BT's hand shot out and caught his elbow, steadying him. Blisk flinched but didn't pull away.  "But ya could do ta give BT an' Cooper a little more credit, yeah?" He leaned hard on BT but felt a little better to be more at eye-level with the Militia General. 

"How do I know this isn't just a trap?" Briggs demanded, stepping in close enough that she was almost toe-to-toe with Blisk.  She was an easy foot shorter than he, but she seemed to tower over him, nonetheless. He held his ground, and BT's free hand rose slightly in warning. 

"A trap fer what, exactly?” Blisk deadpanned.  “You know th' same way Ah know you're gonna let me pass," Blisk countered. "So, if yer gonna kill me, here Ah am." He pulled away from BT and raised his arms away from his body in surrender.

"Kuben please don't start a fight," BT warned darkly.  

"Ah ain't gonna fight," Blisk said quietly, waving BT down but keeping his one-eyed gaze fixed on Briggs. She stared right back, her dark eyes burning.  For the slightest moment, her lower lip trembled, and then her face hardened. Quick as a whip, her hand lashed out, and she delivered a crisp, stinging slap across Blisk's face.  He gasped, recoiling slightly, and his one eye glassed up. Briggs blew out a breath.

"That's for stabbing me," she huffed tartly.  "If Jack and BT trust you, I will too. BUT- if you break that trust I'll tear you apart, got it?" She shook her finger in Blisk's face, but he remained passive, and only nodded.

"Not if Ah tear myself up, first," he replied evenly. She blinked, surprised by this, but nodded in acceptance.

"Fine.  I'm driving.  Let's go," she said, turning her back on him suddenly and walking back to the jeep. 

Blisk stood rooted in place, stunned.  Was that it? She was going to let him off with some mean looks and a slap in the face?  His face stung, his ribs ached, his legs were screaming, and he felt a little sick again.  He turned and gave BT a questioning look, dumbfounded. The Vanguard was smiling.

"Come on, Kuben," BT rumbled, handing over his crutches and gently winding an arm around his shoulders and ushering him to the car. Briggs waited in the driver's seat, watching them with guarded interest as Blisk limped his way to the jeep.

BT didn't pay her any mind, focusing instead on Blisk as he helped him up into the rear seat and then clambered in after him. 

"Everyone's in," BT said at last. The General nodded and got the jeep rolling without comment.

 

Blisk leaned heavily against the door, his head turned to watch the view go by.  He'd never been on Harmony before of course, but he'd heard of its legendary beauty.  The warm summer air that blew into his face from the open windows as they drove was sweet-smelling and clean.  Beautiful, graceful flora, especially trees, grew everywhere. The Militia seemed to have deliberately built around nature so that even the enormous military base they drove through was lush with life wherever he looked. It was a stark contrast to the IMC’s white plasteel everywhere aesthetic.

Deeper into the barracks, and the civilian branches of the city of Liberty, people were still celebrating the Militia's victory, even three days after the fact.  Music thumped in the distance, and he could smell food every other block. More folks than not had bottles and glasses in their hands, and every one of them whooped and cheered triumphantly when they recognized their General in the driver's seat as they passed. 

No-one paid the man with a bandaged head in the back a second glance. Nobody knew who was passing through their stronghold, who they had  _ almost _ rid the Frontier of.  

Blisk watched the merry-makers numbly, starkly aware of being on the losing side, and wondered if they would be rioting instead of cheering; if they knew who he was. 

He wondered if they'd even care. 

He jumped, startled at the sudden touch as BT reached out and gave his wrist a brief, reassuring squeeze. He'd been deliberately tuning out the quiet conversation Briggs and BT had been sharing, but now he noticed that the cab was silent. He cleared his throat.

"Ah suppose congratulations are in order," he rasped.  Briggs took her eye off the road long enough to glance over her shoulder at him. 

"I suppose so," she agreed.  

"Did anyone make it out?" Blisk asked, his voice small.

"Why, going to run home and rat us out?" Briggs asked. 

Blisk bristled.

"If ya didn’t notice, you were already ratted without me.  Honestly?" He said, his voice firming up. "Not with Jack here. Ah'd never lead those asshats ta 'im, no matter their price."  He didn't have a whole lot of allegiance to the IMC: it was a paycheck, and nothing more. He’d simply bet poorly on what he’d thought was the winning side.  BT made a soft, pleased sound of approval, which Blisk ignored. "Ah'm  _ askin _ ' because Ah'm wonderin' if ya realize that was literally  _ all _ a em.  Th' outposts are empty," he growled. "If you wiped out th' IMC forces that came here, you've  _ wiped them out. _ " By now they'd left the city, and were rumbling their way along a dirt road, past farms and factories, and a handful of houses.  Blisk’s tone turned increasingly passionate as he went on. "They were doin' a real good job a hidin' jus' how few a them were left, but they threw literally almost everythin' they had at ya an' anyone left behind ain't gonna have what it takes ta rebuild," he was breathing a little heavily in his vigor, but then suddenly turned a waxy-gray.  "An' you need ta pull over  _ righ' now _ ; Ah'm gonna hurl," he finished in a rush. 

To her credit, Briggs not only registered what he'd said but responded immediately, coasting to a quick, smooth stop in the middle of the deserted road.   Blisk threw open the door he'd been leaning on and heaved out into the dirt without ever leaving his seat. He coughed, groaning as he emptied his stomach. BT scooted close to support him, holding Blisk up by the shoulder with one hand and rubbing his back soothingly with the other.  Blisk spat away the last of the bile and sat up shakily.  

"Fuck," he groaned, shivering.  

"You should have told me you were still feeling so sick," BT said, still holding Blisk by the shoulders.  

"Ah'm fine now," Blisk said, sagging back against the Vanguard slightly. At length, he dragged his tired, pale gaze back up to Briggs, who sat twisted in her seat, watching him with mingled curiosity and pity. "Whut?" 

"That was really everything the IMC had?" She asked, not quite hopefully.

"Can't think of a reason ta lie 'bout it," Blisk said.  A rather ghastly belch escaped him and he grimaced. "Goddamn that shit they gave me..." he breathed, sinking back.  He didn't resist as BT gathered him up against his side, supporting him, and even let his head drop to the Titan's shoulder tellingly. "G'on, Ah'm done," he added when Briggs still hadn't turned back. She glanced from Blisk, who'd shut his eyes and appeared to be focusing on just breathing for a moment, to BT who gave her a secretive little smile.  There was a distinct air of intimacy in the way he held the merc against his body, and his expression turned almost triumphant as he watched her notice.  

“Go on, Sarah,” BT said smoothly.  “I don’t think there’s anything left to come up even if he does get sick again.” Blisk grunted a soft agreement but didn’t budge from where he’d settled against the bot.  The General’s expression scrunched up in confusion but she made no comment, resuming their drive in bewildered silence.

 

They drove for another hour, making slow progress over the bouncy, bumpy road.  Blisk didn’t move from where he’d pillowed himself against BT until they got into the open wild. He’d nearly been dozing, but couldn’t resist his interest as he caught the first glimpses of the beautiful plains stretching to the horizon.  He sat up slowly, his good eye widening as he took in the scenery all around them.  

“Wow,” he said, awed.  

Blisk had been to some beautiful places in his life.  He owned property on some of the Frontier’s more remarkable destinations, even, but he hadn’t seen anything quite like this before.  

The Plains were an absolute explosion of color and life.  He pulled away from BT completely, and propped himself in the window once more, turning his face into the gentle breeze of their slow drive, and watched the flowers go by. 

“These plains go on for some two-thousand square kilometers,” BT rumbled, enjoying how his charge admired the view. 

“Almost there,” Briggs announced.

Blisk frowned, his head swiveling all around as he looked for evidence of a destination.  

“You’ll see it soon,” BT added.  Blisk settled back again but kept his gaze out the window.  

Finally, they crested that last little rise that concealed the Cooper home from the road.  A soft sound of surprise escaped the merc, making BT smile.  

 

Jack must have heard them coming, or perhaps he was alerted by BT, because by the time Briggs pulled up to the house, he was already there to greet them, breaking into an open sprint the moment he recognized Briggs in the driver’s seat. BT leapt out of the jeep almost before it had come to a full stop, dashing forward and scooping his Pilot up into a tremendous hug.

“BT!” Jack peppered his face in kisses.  Three days was a long time for them to be apart. Briggs climbed out more sedately but greeted Jack with almost as fierce of an embrace as BT had.  

Blisk watched as Jack greeted her with an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek as well, and couldn’t help but smile to himself slightly.  He found Jack’s unabashed displays of affection tremendously charming. BT turned back toward the car, and they made eye-contact through the windshield, BT grinning when he saw Blisk’s expression.  He strode back to the jeep and met Blisk as he opened the door to climb out.  

“Let me help, Kuben,” He murmured, bracing Blisk at the forearms as he eased out of the jeep gingerly.  Blisk groaned but managed to hold his balance while BT collected his crutches for him. Sighing his gratitude, he began a slow hobble in Jack’s general direction.  

Jack and Briggs had been talking excitedly about the latest additions to the garden, but both cut off into silence as they noticed his approach.  Briggs’ nose wrinkled, but Jack’s face lit up with all the brilliance of a perfect sunrise. Blisk’s knees locked and he froze under the look, startled.  There was no denying the obvious fact that for some stupid reason, Jack was fond of Blisk, and honestly, the merc quite liked the younger Pilot himself, but being on the receiving end of a look like  _ that _ had just about stopped his heart.

“Kuben!” Jack darted forward, running right up to Blisk and, though he was careful of Blisk’s injuries, greeted him no less enthusiastically than he had BT or the General.  Blisk found himself with Jack’s arms wound around his shoulders and the younger Pilot’s face pressed against his chin. “I’m so glad that you… you’re okay,” Jack murmured, pressing in as snugly as he dared. 

Blisk’s stuttering heart had crawled up into his throat, choking him.  He stood rigid for a moment, but then, despite himself, he melted.  

“ _ Jack _ …” 

He draped himself around Jack, holding him as tight as he could, and whispered his name like a prayer.  There was more pain, more longing in that single syllable than he could express in entire volumes of words.  He didn’t think he should admit that he’d spent the last year wondering if he’d ever get another hug as good as the one Jack had given him so long ago. His throat closed, and his good eye started to sting.  For a dangerous couple of seconds, he thought he might fall apart. 

“Ah need ta sit down,” he breathed, pulling back.  

“Get him in bed,” BT said, watching the pair with bright eyes.  “He’s still recovering from that last surgery.” 

“Oh!” Jack’s head swiveled, looking from Blisk to BT and back.  “God! Here, let’s get you inside…” He turned Blisk gently and led him into his home without a second thought. 

 

Out by the jeep, Briggs watched their backs curiously.

“That...was not how I expected that to go,” she confessed, frowning.  “How...how do they even know each other, BT?” 

“After the battle of Mindou, we found Blisk injured and well on his way to bleeding out.  The IMC abandoned him during their retreat. Rather than putting him out of his misery, or leaving him to die slowly, sweet Jack decided the best course of action would be to instead rescue him and treat his wounds.  Blisk is…” BT pondered the right words for a beat, “good company when he’s not  _ working _ .  He’d asked to be taken to Bohr, and in the three days it took to get there, the three of us connected.  When we arrived planetside, he did indeed take a bullet meant for Jack-” Briggs gave him a speculative look, and BT smiled.

“I was there, and I have footage if you’d like to see it,” he offered.  She cleared her throat, embarrassed, and shrugged the offer off. “You don’t go through that kind of thing with someone without a bond forming, though I am surprised by how warmly he just responded to Jack.” He was smiling broader than ever.  “He’s a sad, damaged soul, and I haven’t seen him so readily accept offerings comfort or compassion before.” Briggs wrinkled her nose again but didn’t comment on that. 

“And you’re okay with…” Briggs made a vague gesture toward the door of the house, through which Jack and Blisk had vanished together.  “... _ That _ ?” She clarified lamely.  “Seemed like a pretty  _ intense _ hug…”  She’d thought the romance between Jack and BT had been pretty obvious, but it didn’t jive at all with how either of them responded to Blisk.  

“I am okay with whatever keeps Jack safe and happy,” BT said, chuckling gently. “I’ve become quite human-like, but Jack’s well-being will always be my highest priority.” 

She fell quiet, not satisfied with his answer, but not sure how to politely press the issue.

“If you say so,” she said instead, baffled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ACK that took longer than I planned to post! Sorry, kids!
> 
> Don't ask me why someone has to puke in every one of my fics. I don't know, either.  
> Because it really sucks? And I love putting these bastards through sucky situations?   
> Although here... if you've ever been put under anesthesia for any length of time... puking afterward is pretty common. Poor Kubie feels like absolute trash still, but at least he's had BT there to comfort him ಸ‿‿ಸ
> 
> ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩f You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, your reviews will surely show it!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆  
> ☆♬○♩★♪✧♩If You're Happy And You know it, leave reviews!♩✧♪★♩○♬☆


	16. Chapter 16

\--16--

Jack’s home was small, comfortable, and quaint in a rustic sort of way that Blisk thought absolutely suited its owner’s gentle, sunny soul. 

It wasn’t cluttered, but there wasn’t an inch of wasted space, either.  Pictures hung on the walls: everything from photographs to art-prints and even a few frames that instead held arrangements of pressed flowers. There were blankets draped on almost all of the chairs, and baubles hung in the windows. One window had been replaced with a stained-glass mosaic, casting rays of multi-colored light onto a big, overstuffed couch.  Windchimes tinkled and sang from somewhere outside. Blisk counted no less than six separate vessels ranging from drinking glasses to, in one case, a large aluminum bucket, holding flowers, standing alone or gathered into arrangements placed on any flat surface stout enough to hold them. The bucket of big, disk-shaped orange flowers the size of dinner plates sat on the floor.  The whole place smelled faintly of sweet vanilla and sandalwood. 

It was an open-plan space, and nearly the entire house was visible from the front door, save for one room set off to the side through an old-fashioned wooden door.  

Jack led him into the lone bedroom, revealing another tidy, cozy space that was dominated by a tremendously large bed dressed in clean linens and piled high with pillows and blankets.  A little potted plant that might have been some sort of indigenous orchid sat on one of the nightstands. Thick curtains blocked out the daylight, casting the room in a comforting sort of diffused darkness. The Pilot’s earthy-sweet scent filled the room, making Blisk’s chest tighten.  Blisk resisted the urge to breathe it in as deeply as he could. He did not belong here. 

“Jack, th’ couch is fine…” Blisk said, already attempting to back out of the room. 

“Maybe, but for today, please, let me have the couch, and _ rest _ , alright?” Jack said, nudging Blisk forward.  “Everything’s clean, and you can stay here as long as you need to.”

Blisk didn’t have the strength to dig his heels in, and helplessly allowed Jack to propel him fully into the room. 

“Haven’t you done enough fer me, already?” Blisk pressed, frowning.  “Ah overstayed your generosity th’ second you called in yer favor with Briggs for me.” He knew better, by now, than to say it, but the words  _ I don't deserve this _ bounced around his brain and clogged his throat relentlessly.  Jack might have imagined otherwise, but he really, truly, did. Not.

“Maybe. But that’s not up to you,” Jack said kindly.  “Just... _ relax _ . Enjoy relaxing. Nobody’s going to bother you here.”

Blisk stared past Jack, to the bed, contemplating it.  It looked so nice.

"You pile all that shit on there for me?"  He asked, his tone flat and teasing. Jack grinned.

"Nope. It's always like that,” he said proudly.  Blisk, despite the pain and the ache in his heart, and the jarring discomfort of being welcomed so suddenly into Jack's home, snorted out a soft laugh. 

"Alright," he agreed at last.  He hobbled further into the room, and when he finally made it to the bed, he sat with a long sigh of relief. Jack trailed after, and Blisk let him help with his shoes. 

"Still pretty sore, huh?" Jack lamented.

"Oh yeah," Blisk said emphatically.  "Fracture, fracture... break," he pointed to his legs accordingly. "An' cracked three ribs.  Th’ docs only used th’ accelerated healin’ enough ta get me walkin and’re lettin’ nature do th’ rest.  Not ta mention ah jus' about brained ma’self, 'parently." Despite how he felt, he couldn't help the almost proud tone in his voice.  Every survival was a triumph. Especially the painful ones. 

"They didn't give you anything for the pain before you left the hospital?" Jack asked, sounding horrified. Blisk shrugged.

"Naah.  It's me," he said, brushing off the probably-deliberate oversight.  "Suppose Ah could'a asked for somethin', but anythin' that'd actually help th' pain would make me loopy as fuck. Don't really want that," Blisk murmured. He had an uncomfortably vague memory of BT chuckling indulgently, repeatedly, but had no recollection of what he'd said.

"Makes sense I guess," Jack murmured.  He was fussily pulling back the covers and arranging pillows behind Blisk as he scooted back.  Blisk resisted insisting he could take care of himself. He remembered his last stay with the other Pilot like it was only yesterday and knew there was no use attempting to resist his nurturing habits. 

Honestly, it was pretty nice, Blisk thought.

"Can I see?"

Blisk startled slightly as Jack's hand rose into his blind spot to stop short just shy of touching the bandages on his head.  He'd zoned out. A heartbeat later he caught up with what Jack wanted, but still, he hesitated.

"It's not-"

"I know," Jack said quickly, "How it looks won't bother me, but I'm hoping we might still be able to treat the scar, at least, with Biogel."

"You could soak my whole face in that stuff it ain't gonna make me less ugly," Blisk drawled, smirking.  "Don't waste it."

"You're not ugly!" Jack huffed, scoffing at the idea. "Jesus!" He stepped away from the bed and turned, almost stomping into the adjacent washroom. "Besides, it's not a waste if it relieves some of the pain," he went on, returning to Blisk with a jar of familiar silvery gunk in short order.  “And I think you’re quite handsome,” Jack confessed slyly, giving the merc a little smile. Blisk snorted out a bemused chuckle, mystified with the other man.

“Then get yer eyes checked,” he teased, unable to accept the compliment.  Jack rolled his eyes but didn’t haggle.  

“Whatever,” he chuckled.  “Let me see it, now,” he demanded, ushering Blisk to lean forward with his free hand.  After a moment more of hesitation, Blisk complied, leaning in and letting Jack gently peel away the bandages from his face.

“Ooh, ouch,” Jack whispered sympathetically. Blisk winced a little himself.

“It stings a bit, yeah,” he said flippantly. Jack traced along the length of the massive gash, just beneath it where Blisk’s skin wasn’t as swollen and red.  Blisk kept his bad eye shut conscientiously, his eyelid hanging flatly over the empty void behind it, but his good one drifted shut as well at the feather-light touch, and he let out a soft, barely-audible rumble.  The gentle touch felt nice.  

“They got it pretty neatly closed up, at least,” Jack reported.  “The bleeding is long-gone and I’m not even seeing any plasma leaking out… Open up that eye,” Jack went on, his voice soft and thoughtful as he examined Blisk with clinical seriousness. Blisk obeyed with a soft grumble. “Wow, that’s bizarre,” Jack breathed, examining the pink pillows of flesh that should have been obscured.  Glints of metal winked from within in the dim light: the settings for the functional prosthetic still being built. Blisk made another soft sound, this one sounding distinctly uncomfortable. “Anyway, Biogel,” Jack hurried on, not wanting to trouble Blisk more than necessary. 

He didn’t wait for Blisk’s consent this time, and simply opened up that jar of slime and got his fingers right into it, setting to work dabbing it along the wound traversing Blisk’s weathered face.  Blisk sat patiently and let Jack do his thing, certain that even if he’d wanted to, there’d be no telling Jack no anyway. He snorted softly, smiling fondly to himself as this thought crossed his mind. 

The smile made Jack’s heart do a little backflip but he didn’t mention it.  Blisk had clearly drifted off into his own thoughts, and Jack was starkly aware of what a tremendous show of trust just that was.  He finished his work in polite silence and set the jar aside on the nightstand. Blisk cracked his eye back open to watch him thoughtfully for a moment.  His skin felt cold without Jack’s hand on him.   
“Thanks, Jack,” he whispered.

“Of course,” Jack murmured, smiling gently.

At that moment, BT appeared in the doorway. He was smiling at them.  Blisk’s eyebrows went up, and the Vanguard gave him a cheeky little smirk.

“Sarah’s gone back to Base.  She says she owes you a drink. And a hug,” he told Jack as he padded into the room.  Jack grinned sweetly and nodded. Blisk grimaced. He’d forgotten about Briggs. He was just starting to settle down into the bed when another figure appeared behind BT.  

"Kuben?" A beat-up looking Stalker wearing a black denim jacket and camo fatigues leaned out from behind the Titan, flickering hopefully at Blisk. 

Red.

Blisk didn't know what came over him, but with a single, unexpected hitch of his chest, he burst into deep, cathartic sobs at the sight of his Titan. Red let out a startled chirp and hurried around BT and Jack, and actually climbed up onto the bed to flop out alongside his Pilot.  Blisk turned his head, pressing his face into Red's jacket, and the Legion curled around him carefully, cradling him. Jack and BT exchanged a look and both silently slipped out of the room, leaving the pair alone. 

"Thank you," Red said, pressing his optic against the top of Blisk's head. "Thank you for living..." 

 

At length, Blisk huffed and hiccuped his way back to calmness.  Red hadn’t moved once from where he held his Pilot, quietly chirping and chirring sweetly almost like birdsong as he strove to reassure him.  The peculiar noises were unlike anything Blisk had ever noticed with any other Titan, and they’d baffled him for years, but suddenly Red’s unique singing was unfathomably comforting.

“Good ta see ya, Bud,” Blisk groaned.  “An’ thanks fer th’ save. Ah’m sorry Ah yelled at ya fer tryin’ ta help me.”   He owed Red countless apologies, he realized, but this was a good start. He pulled away from Red and the Legion sat up, folding his armored legs into a cross-legged position.

“No need to apologize, Pilot.  I understand,” Red said, flickering his biolights fondly.  For a time, Pilot and Titan simply gazed at each other through the dim light. Blisk thought that jacket looked ridiculous but he didn’t mention it. 

“It’s beautiful here,” Red broke the silence first.  “Peaceful. Pilot Cooper and BT want us to stay. Can we stay? Please?” He spoke in a rush, eager and hopeful.  Blisk sighed sadly.

“Dunno if we can, Red,” he groaned.  “These guys carry some clout, but their  _ General _ knows we’re here. Ah’m granted amnesty for now, but who knows how long thas’ gonna last. It ain’t safe.” 

“Where else would we go?” Red countered petulantly.  

“Ah dunno,” Blisk said, sounding defeated.

“But-”

“Red, Ah’m too tired ta think about tha’ righ’ now, yeah?” Blisk said, fighting hard to remain gentle with the big lout.  Red always meant well, he knew. “It’s gonna be days before Ah’m on th’ mend,” he went on, further softening his words. “It’s okay ta enjoy it while we can.” Red nodded.  

“Alright. But I still want to stay,” He said, scooting his way past Blisk off the bed.  

“Me too, Bud,” Blisk lamented, watching sadly as Red gave him one last little flicker and then moseyed out to let him rest.  Blisk turned his head, indulgently pressing the uninjured side of his face into the pillow. He realized that mingled with the sweetness of Jack’s scent was the spicier tang of something like cloves that he’d come to associate with BT.  His heart and gut swapped places briefly, both exploding into butterflies. He suddenly remembered what he’d said to BT in his drugged-out stupor that morning, and blushed hotly. 

“Fuckin’ hell…” He muttered, groaning.  

He really did want to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow updates! I'm a bit stuck on Chapter 17...not for lack of ideas, but flow...hang in there everyone!
> 
> Blisk is still having a tough day, but he's gonna get a break for a little bit now, poor guy. :)


	17. Chapter 17

\--17--

Awake, again.

 

Blisk slept away the afternoon, but as always the serenity of slumber never held him for long.  He couldn't guess what time it was, but by the hush and the deep, prevailing darkness permeating the room, it had to be well into the night. For a time, he tried to go back to sleep, guiltily enjoying the warmth and comfort of Jack's bed and trying not to imagine what it might be like if the other Pilot were there with him.  Or BT. The blankets draped over him were deliciously warm, but Blisk shivered. It didn't do to think like that, but this house was too quiet: too far from civilization and too soft and too calm to drown out the parade of intrusive thoughts pounding their way through his head. After several more minutes of fighting, Blisk sat up, defeated.  The deafening noise of total silence had become too much to bear. 

 

It was just about midnight.  Red sat in one corner of the Cooper's living room, his bulky frame neatly filling a love seat meant for two. He'd powered down into near standby, conserving energy as he watched the pair on the couch with dim optics.  Jack was still up, lounging backward against BT's chest as the Vanguard cradled him in his arms, reading along with Jack over his shoulder as the Pilot poured over a gently glowing datapad. Red admired their bond and the easy way they expressed love to one another, and secretly wished for something similar. Being Linked to a Pilot was intimate, yes, and Red imagined that being romantically involved, as these two were, brought such intimacy to an unfathomable level.  Red wasn't sure he wanted a romance, but that his Pilot consistently held him at arms' length stung something fierce. The ecstatic joy that Red had felt from even the tiniest slip Kuben had allowed at their reunion drove this home all the more forcefully.  

_ What's it like, _ Red rumbled softly, the burst of binary too low for Jack to hear.  _  To have a Pilot who values you so? _

BT turned his head ever so slightly, looking Red's way.  His lovely, human-like eyes had an almost imperceptible glow to them.  Red wanted that, too. Eyes, that was. And a face with which to smile. A body more expressive and more compatible with humanity.  

_ But you are valued, Red _ , BT purred back, gently adjusting his embrace of his oblivious Pilot. _   Kuben obviously treasures you.  His reaction to you today alone proves that. _

_ It was a lucky anomaly, _ Red countered. 

_ Kuben is damaged _ , BT reminded.   _ He struggles with self-expression, and actively resists forming bonds with others.  Perhaps you are simply too close to see the whole picture, but a man such as Kuben doesn't break into tears for anyone.  He would not back up your memories, would not store them in a locked and hidden safe, if he did not care for you. He is simply poorly equipped to express it. _

Red supposed this was true and nodded slightly.  

_ We intend to help him heal, _ BT went on.  _  I am confident with time, you'll see what I mean. _

_ If anyone is capable, it's you.  Work quickly, _ Red went on. _ He is afraid to stay. _

_ He has some very real dangers to be concerned about, here _ , BT said.   _ But we have a number of unique resources, and hopefully, we can prove to him it's safer here than it appears. _

_ There's hope _ , Red reasoned.  _ He trusts you. More than anyone else in my databank. _

BT couldn't resist a big smile at that. He might have issued further comment, but at that moment, Blisk appeared in the bedroom doorway.

"Kuben?" Jack sat up quickly, his datapad instantly forgotten.  "Are you alright?" 

BT turned on a little lamp beside the couch, casting a soft golden glow over the room and making it easier for the humans to see one another in the dim.

Blisk was leaning on his crutches, his expression troubled. 

“You’re still up?” Blisk murmured, surprised.  “Ah jus came out fer some air,” he explained, shuffling further into the room.  “‘S too quiet.” 

“I know what you mean,” Jack said understandingly.  “It creeped me out at first too. I can get some quiet music going or something for you if you want?”

“Come here, Kuben,” BT spoke up, not giving Blisk a chance to answer. He nudged Jack aside and scooted away to open a gap between them.  Blisk took one eager step but then faltered, hesitant. 

“Ah don’t want ta intrude if you two are still catchin’ up,” he said, retreating a half-step.

“Spending time together with a friend we care about is not an intrusion, Kuben,” BT said evenly, and Jack nodded earnestly in agreement.  “But if you are uncomfortable, you won’t hurt us to say so,” he added.  

“It’s...not that,” Blisk whispered.

“They’re friends, Kuben,” Red rumbled suddenly.  “If you need them,  _ go _ to them.”  Blisk sent a sharp look in Red’s direction.  The Legion hadn’t moved at all and Blisk hadn’t been sure he’d even been online until that moment.

“You’re still up too?”  He asked, half-teasing.

“Barely,” Red countered, managing to replicate the sound of a yawn into his words. With that, he stood and headed for the door.  “I’m going to go out to the shop for a recharge.” He didn’t strictly need to, yet, but he could sense Blisk wasn’t going to relax as much as he needed to with him there.  “Enjoy your slumber party, kids.” With a wave and a flicker, he ambled out, the door shutting softly behind him. 

Blisk watched him go, battling between sadness and relief.  

“Sit with us?” Jack asked quietly.  Blisk stared back at Jack for a few heartbeats but then nodded.

“Yeah.” He limped his way over to the couch and gingerly sat between Jack and BT with a soft groan.  Both radiated warmth that soaked into his body from both sides. They both smelled nice.

 

"How are you feeling?  Is your pain manageable?" BT asked, taking Blisk's crutches and setting them aside within easy reach.  He leaned out slightly so that he could look Blisk in the face, his eyes keen as he examined the merc. Jack was doing much the same from Blisk's other side.  Blisk didn't generally like being caged in like he was currently, nor did he enjoy such scrutiny, but with Jack and BT, it was almost kind of nice. Each gesture of caring drew him a little further away from the pain and self-loathing. 

"Oh, yeah," Blisk said tiredly.  "It ain't so bad. Jus' a bit antsy with th' quiet, 's all.  Was gonna sneak outside for some air but Ah'm glad you're still up." It was easy to be honest with them and Blisk had learned long ago that there wasn't any fighting either of their intuitions anyway.

"Can't sleep?" Jack guessed.

"Never can," Blisk sighed, letting out a bitter half-chuckle.

"Worse than ever, perhaps?" BT asked softly.  Blisk still looked tired in an alarming sort of way, even after three days of medical care.  BT had also noticed the merc was considerably slimmer than when they'd encountered him in the past, his musculature still distinctive but far leaner than before. His skin was just a shade too pale, a hair too thin. The shadows under his eyes were too deep. He looked old beyond his years.

Blisk hesitated but then nodded.

"Yeah," he confessed.  "M..." He paused, hesitating again. "My head's haunted, or somethin'," he whispered.   "All th' ugly stuff comes out at night, an' there's a lot a it."

"Oh, Kuben," Jack moaned.  Blisk shrugged the sympathy off.

"Earned all a it," he reminded.  "Jus... decided ta get up b'fore it turned nasty tonight."

"We're here for you," BT said, gently beginning to pull Blisk in against his side.  Blisk readily moved where he was guided with a soft sigh. After a moment, Jack scooted up to flush against him as well. 

"Is this alright?" the Pilot asked.  Blisk's shoulders were tense. Blisk blew out the breath he'd been holding, and gradually tipped most of his weight against Jack.

"Yeah," he whispered. 

“Talk to us, Kuben,” BT rumbled, winding an arm around the merc in a loose embrace.  At first, Blisk said nothing, but a small, strained sound escaped the back of his throat. 

"Ah... what do ya do when there's nothing?" Blisk groaned.  "Ah've burned every bridge Ah ev'a crossed. Ah chose th' wrong side and th' wrong path.  Ah've known that fer a long time but..." he shrugged, despondent. "What do ya do then? Been tryin' ta jus' keep goin but th' further Ah go th' darker things got." Jack wrapped his arms around Blisk's shoulders, squeezing gently, but said nothing.  BT reached out and delicately laid the very tips of his fingers over Blisk's thigh, silently tracing them over the scars he knew were hidden under the sweats the merc wore. Blisk flinched. "Too much of a coward ta actually try," Blisk confessed glumly, "but Ah've dreamed a dyin'... Was hopin' this last mission'd do me.  Didn't occur ta me there might be a chance a rescue... Can't bear ta stay, but Ah can't leave either... it..." He sighed, tipping his head back onto the couch and staring up at the dark ceiling. "It...that hurts way worse than a knife over skin. Worse 'an fucked up legs an' a missin' eye, even." He fell silent for a moment, chewing his lip as he tried to process his thoughts into words. "That... was all from jus' one really bad day..." He'd tipped his head to look at BT, knowing the Titan had seen what he'd done to himself.  "Feels kinda nice, when you're th' one in control." Jack stared at BT in confusion over Blisk's shoulders, his eyes wide and worried.

"Be that as it may," BT rumbled, his voice stern, "there will be repercussions if more of that happens in this house," Blisk tensed. "Even if it is only unnecessarily frequent nagging," BT added, softening the threat. Blisk looked a shade sick but nodded.  "We care about you, Kuben," BT went on. "We like you, and would prefer to keep you intact and well."

"Kuben, what...?" Jack asked, looking more concerned than ever. Blisk sighed, closing his eye.

"Carved myself up a bit a few months ago," he said, making a crisscrossing gesture with his hand over his thighs.  "Knew BT must’ve gotten a look, an Ah suppose you'll see sooner or later, too." He couldn't bear to verify the horrified look he was certain the other Pilot was aiming his way.  "Don't worry. Ah ain't gonna do that... Ain't gonna put you two through it, at least."

"At least," BT sighed. 

"It was a bad day," Blisk repeated defensively.  "Red came completely unglued, Ah'd appreciate it if ya didn't put me through an encore." 

"No, no," Jack said quickly, fixing BT a look.  "It's fine, don't worry. That's in the past, let's move on now, yeah?" He was still wrapped around Blisk and gave him another gentle squeeze.  Blisk groaned, melting into it gratefully.

"Ah'm sorry. Ah know you're not..." He brought his hands up, rubbing his face roughly.  The nanites had just about finished off the healing process of the cut on his face, and it barely ached when disturbed.  He didn't dare admit he missed the pain, just a little. "Ah'm jus' so... tired." He scrubbed a little more against his face, hoping to rouse some sort of feeling other than existential numbness.  "Ah don't feel right..." he mumbled. "Everything's... Ah dunno. Feels sideways, or somethin'. Can't think." 

"Dizzy?" Jack asked worriedly, but Blisk only frowned and shook his head.  

"Numb," he countered, "inside."  

"That's not surprising, given all you've been through," BT rumbled. "Deep breaths, Kuben.  It'll pass." 

Blisk let himself sag further down into the plush couch, forcing himself to relax further, and indeed drew in several long, deliberately slow breaths.  He wasn’t sure if it helped much but didn’t mention that. Jack’s hand on his shoulder crept up, the Pilot gently tracing his fingers up the back of Blisk’s neck to comb through the hair at the base of his skull, petting and tugging gently.  Blisk shuddered, gasping, and while he considered protesting, instead he slowly dropped his chin down to his chest, silently inviting more. Jack meant well, and the soft, almost tickling touches were making the hair on Blisk’s arms stand on end and pleasant little shivers ghost down his spine.  

Silence fell between them, save for the occasional soft whine from Blisk, but Jack kept on petting, determined to do anything he could do to soothe the troubled merc.  BT watched in silent stoicism, observing not only how Blisk responded to Jack, but also his biometrics: how his pulse slowed and his breathing gradually evened out, his blood pressure stabilizing gradually.  BT caught Jack's eyes and nodded, silently encouraging his Pilot. Blisk let his head drop onto Jack's shoulder, and not long after, he drifted to sleep. 

 

Jack let out a shaky sigh and let his hand down. 

"Let's let him sleep like this for a little while," BT murmured.  Jack only nodded and hugged the slumbering man a little tighter against himself.  His eyes glittered wetly, and BT leaned over Blisk to lay a gentle, reassuring kiss on Jack's cheek. 

  
  


Morning eventually arrived.  For several blissful moments, Blisk hung in semi-wakefulness, floating in a cocoon of warmth and a forgetful sort of happiness.  Jack had turned in his sleep to slouch against one corner of the couch, and Blisk found himself draped over the younger man's chest.  Blisk had never woken to the sound of someone else's heartbeat before. A living, sane person had allowed him to get close enough to hear the steady beat of his heart.  The unexpected intimacy shocked a gasp out of him, and he sat up abruptly, staring in awe down at the sleeping Pilot. 

"Good morning." 

Blisk's head snapped around, and he jumped in surprise at the voice right behind him.  BT still sat at the other end of the couch, having watched over the pair all night. He was smiling warmly at Blisk.  Jack slept on soundly.   

"How are you feeling?" BT asked, his voice low.  Blisk shot a cautious look over at Jack. "We won't disturb Jack," BT assured.  "I've dampened his senses so he rests until he's ready." Blisk relaxed with a little sigh and nodded.  

"Hey," he croaked, offering an almost shy smile. "Didn't mean ta stay out here all night," he said, semi-apologetically.

"You'd finally relaxed enough to rest, we weren't going to wake you," BT said, his smile brightening.  "And your presence was so good for Jack." Blisk huffed out a hard breath, averting his gaze down to his knees.  "He was good for you too, I think," BT rumbled thoughtfully. Blisk nodded hesitantly.  

"Yeah..." 

"He'd give his heart to you if you let him, you know," BT said.  Blisk's breath caught.  

"Still, huh?" He didn't look at BT, instead averting his eyes to Jack, sleeping peacefully.  "He ain't jus' this sweet ta everyone?" He added in a half-tease. BT chuckled warmly.

"Oh, he is," he said, his voice rich with love.  "But I know you're not." 

Blisk let out a soft snort.

"No...Ah'm not.  Jack's special though, ain't he?" 

"As are you," BT pressed. 

"Ah ain't," Blisk countered firmly, finally looking back at BT.  BT's entire countenance radiated warmth, his smile reaching his eyes so convincingly that Blisk found himself once again struggling with reconciling the knowledge that this man beside him wasn't human.  "An' what about you," Blisk pushed. "You two're lovers, yeah? Ah'm not goin' ta break that up for anythin'." To his surprise, BT's smile only brightened.

"You won't," he said confidently.  "We don't operate like that, though I hope you'd consider me as well.  I'm quite fond of you, Kuben, and would very much like to pursue a relationship with you just as Jack would." 

Blisk's jaw dropped as he tried to unpack all of what BT had just told him.  

"I uh..."  He fumbled for a response, but  BT raised a hand, stopping him.

"Consider it.  Nobody's going to push you, and Jack and I are here for you whether either of us has a chance at a romantic relationship or not.  What we do, and how we treat you, is because we care about you, not because we want something from you. Yes?" 

Blisk stared back at BT, still slack-jawed in awe. The Vanguard's words were like shots through the heart, each affirmation another burning arrow shocking him hard and then suffusing into a glowing warmth that made him ache. 

Warm.  They were both so warm and Blisk had spent his whole life unbearably cold. 

He nodded, smiling back breathlessly.  It was all Blisk could do not to throw himself at BT and Jack's mercy at that very minute, but he held himself back.  For as jaded and guarded as he was, Blisk found himself all too quick and eager to throw his heart away. He'd felt it from the first signs of compassion from Jack, and again just in the past few days after even the most basic acts of kindness from BT.  All those years ago, it'd barely taken more than a smile, and what seemed like genuine interest, and before he knew it, he'd become a father, then a husband, then... 

He needed to be careful. 

"Ah understand," Blisk answered, unable to commit any further answer for the moment.

BT must have read the memories on Blisk's face because his expression softened in understanding and he stood.

"Jack will be delighted if there's coffee when he wakes up.  Shall I prepare enough for two?" He asked, smoothly dropping the topic.  Blisk let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"Sure," he said smiling gratefully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BT's workin' it HARD. XD XD XD
> 
> This delay was brought to you by the Kincade Fire! We are fine, and our home is fine, but my husband, fur-babies, and I were inconvenienced for four days when in the hours before dawn on Sunday, we were rather suddenly ordered to evacuate. We live almost 10 miles from where the closest edge of the fire reached, but several towns, amounting to something close to 200,000 people were evacuated - just to be safe. I don't mind. In 2017 we had the Tubbs fire which destroyed a LOT of homes and killed a lot of people and this time nobody was taking any chances. We are very very lucky to have not lost anything- our power stayed on so all of our food didn't spoil while we were gone, and even my potted plants survived four very warm, dry days without watering. I have at least one friend who still lost everything, even though the firefighters from I think seven different states did an admirable job defending homes and lives. You never know when that die is going to turn up a 1 instead of a 20.  
> I'd THOUGHT I might be able to use the time with very little to do while staying at my inlaw's home to write, but even though, especially in light of the losses of my friends, we were only inconvenienced, the whole event was pretty traumatic and I didn't manage a single sentence the entire time. BUT Things are back to normal now so hopefully, I'll be back on track with more regular posting again soon. I know I keep saying that, though, and who knows what part of Cali is going to combust next...or when.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG MOAR FLUFF

\--18--

The front entrance to the Cooper home faced right out into their vast and diverse garden, and the wilds beyond.  It was a warm summer day, and a delicate breeze caused the wind chimes hung over the porch to tinkle melodically.  The sweet scent of flowers that blew in was intense, but far from unpleasant. Blisk had been sitting on the step in the partial shade for hours, watching Jack, and now BT as well, putter in the garden.  He couldn't think of the last time he'd been able to just  _ sit _ somewhere and enjoy the view. Or even sit somewhere  _ with _ an enjoyable view. 

Harmony was beautiful.

Jack was pretty damn appealing to watch, also.

"So, are you going to, I don't know, talk to the guy, or just sit here and stare at him like a creep?"  Red had been inside, tinkering on some little project or other he'd assigned himself, but now stood in the doorway behind his Pilot.  Blisk’s one good eye rolled in disdain. 

"Yeah. Maybe.  Jus' tryin' ta be careful this time, Red.  Tryin' not ta do th' thing where Ah," he made an underhanded dumping gesture with both hands, "Jus chuck myself at people's feet like a damn dog." 

Red chuckled.

"I think it's too late for that if we're honest with ourselves," he said.  "Watch out. Maybe I'll make the first move and steal him out from under you," Red threatened.  

"They don't operate like that," Blisk blurted.  Red cocked his head, flickering in confusion. "Can't steal what's freely given," Blisk murmured, looking away as he thought of what BT had told him that morning.  "You'll jus' be even more stuck with me, mebbe...." He added, trailing off thoughtfully.

"So you  _ do _ -"

"Never said Ah didn't," Blisk interjected.  "Ah'm jus' tryin not ta go too fa-"

"You've wasted your whole life, Kuben, don't you think it's time?" Red tip-toed past Blisk and sat at his feet.  He'd done away with wearing the jacket at some point, but the camo fatigues remained. "I know what you're afraid of," he went on.  "But think about it logically for a moment. If they really wanted you dead, all they had to do was stay home when I called. If they wanted to hurt you, BT was with you for three days while you were unconscious and helpless, and while the Militia definitely has a staunch code of morals I'm certain no-one would have noticed if you perished in the night, or if one of your surgeries had gone mysteriously wrong.  They’ve had their chances, Kuben. All kinds of them. They’re not going to hurt you.” 

Blisk was silent for a long time.

“Ah know,” he said at last. “But what if Ah hurt them?”

Red shrugged.

“Same logic applies, really,” he said somewhat flippantly.  “Look,” he said, surprisingly serious. “Every single action you take has some level of risk.  Deciding not to take action has its own risks. You’re not going to escape your fate when it comes for you, Kuben. You might as well be happy when it arrives.” 

Blisk thought on this.  
“D’you think we kin really jus… vanish an’ stay here forever?” He asked, gazing back out at the colorful horizon.  He never really stayed in one place long enough to suffer homesickness per se, but the rare beauty of Harmony made him long for his favorite place in the Frontier: his penthouse on the resort planet of Perlas and the closest thing to _home_ he had. 

Perlas was controlled by the Militia these days, and he hadn’t been home in years. He rather thought Jack might enjoy the ethereal pearly rings for which the planet was named, and it’s eerie-calm sea, alight with bioluminescence.  He missed the ocean, but if he never got to return, he supposed Harmony was a pretty close second. It would do, especially if he could stay  _ here _ .

“Well,” Red mused. “So far, so good?”

“It’s been a day, Red,” Blisk chuckled. 

“For you. It’s been almost five, for me.  Catch up,” the Legion chortled. Blisk stiffened, suddenly feeling terribly uncomfortable.  “They” had a three-day head start on him, he realized. He’d lost track of the days he’d been kept unconscious in Militia care.  He tried to battle the paranoia down, but it wouldn’t budge. 

“Fuck,” he groaned.  Red chirred softly, feeling his Pilot’s unease and lamenting having triggered it. Blisk had his head low and his fingers twitched restlessly. 

“We’re safe for now,” Red reminded him, sounding worried as Blisk stood with a grunt.  There was no way Blisk could run, nor anywhere to go. “Where are you going?” He asked, beginning to rise as Blisk gathered up his crutches.  Blisk waved him off.  
“Ah’m gonna go talk ta Jack,” he said, setting off down the short path to the garden at a surprisingly swift, determined hobble. “So ya don’t steal ‘im from me.”   
Red laughed, rich and booming and loud enough that Jack looked up from his work.  The younger man spotted Blisk’s approach and the Legion and his Pilot were treated to one of his hallmark sunshine grins.   

“Well alright,” Red chuckled, flickering back happily.  
  
They hadn’t left the table after dinner that evening.  Flowers he’d helped Jack collect dangled in a rakish, haphazard arrangement out of a drinking glass off to one side, and a bottle of the absolute best scotch Blisk had ever enjoyed sat beside it, its contents notably diminished from when Jack had brought it out. Blisk nursed a single glass, fighting hard not to give in to the urge to slam it back in order to make room for more. And more.  He was enjoying how easy his own laughter came, how ready he was to smile as they talked but had absolutely no desire to allow himself down the path of oblivion tonight.  

“That guy just about ruined Northstars for us,” Jack was chuckling. They’d gotten to talking about Typhon.  It’d been traumatic for all parties involved, but talking together like this, it was easier to distance themselves from the pain.  They could even have a few chuckles at their own expense now.

“But they’re so damn purdy!” Blisk teased, shooting Jack a sly grin as he traced the vine pattern lacing around the edge of the scotch bottle’s label with his finger.   _ Avalon _ .  He was going to have to find out where Jack got that stuff, he thought.

“Not when they’re shooting at you, they’re not! And that guy Viper- What was his name, anyway?!” Jack demanded, half standing and playfully pounding his fist on the table demandingly. Blisk snorted.

“Aww, that guy was a jackass!” He snorted.  “Don’t miss ‘im one bit. Fucker insisted we call ‘im that but Ah always called him…” Blisk trailed off, his face scrunching up as he fumbled for the name.  “Puh…” He blinked, rubbing his face. “Pete? No thas’ not… huh… wait.” He straightened up, his hand automatically going for his pocket only to discover that he didn’t have his comm.  Of course, he didn’t. His frown deepened. “M’comm?” He glanced over at Red and BT who stood together nearby, sharing in the conversation if not the libations. They exchanged a look, Red flickering uncertainly.  

“We don’t have it,” BT said.  “It was probably lost during your rescue.” 

Blisk sighed. He’d intended to look the name up in his contacts, but the moment had passed.  He’d always had such a sharp memory: He couldn’t think of a single instance where he’d struggled to recall someone’s name before, let alone that of one of his own mercenaries. He tried to think of where his comm had been before they’d entered battle.  In a pocket? In the locker with his scant other belongings? Did he bring it with him?

He couldn’t recall at all.

“Ah dunno…” he murmured, troubled. He looked down into his glass. “Ah ain’t  _ that _ drunk!” He groused.  BT and Jack exchanged a look, but then Jack reached out and gave Blisk’s hand a pat.  

“Don’t worry about it, Kuben. I’m sure you’ll think of it.” He took the bottle and added a little more scotch to Blisk’s glass with a smile.  “Maybe you’re just not drunk  _ enough _ !” he added with a laugh.  Blisk let it drop with a chuckle of his own.

“Mebbe yer right.” 

 

For the second night in a row, Blisk conked out wedged between Jack and BT on the couch, his head propped on Jack’s shoulder and sleeping far more peacefully than usual for it. The second glass of scotch probably had as much to do with it as anything, but Jack couldn’t resist grinning triumphantly over at BT as the merc’s breathing abruptly turned deep and every third or fourth breath rattled with a soft snore.

BT grinned back, gazing warmly at Jack and watching as his Pilot got his fingers back into Blisk's hair, petting him gently.  Blisk let out a happy rumble in his sleep and pushed in closer, making Jack's face ignite red as he broke into a wild, delighted grin.

"I'm in love, BT," Jack breathed turning his smile down on the sleeping man propped against him.

"Hmmm...you've  _ been _ in love, Jack," BT purred, bringing his own hand up to trace along the plane of Blisk's temple, feeling the skin beneath his touch go warm. Jack's blush deepened but he didn't deny it.

"You're no better off!" He whispered.  BT shrugged, smiling broadly.

“That, I am not." He agreed. "Nor is Kuben, I believe.  You've had his eyes on you all day," BT observed. Jack's grin turned magnesium bright and he looked away. He'd noticed too.

"I hope..." Jack breathed but trailed off. 

"Patience," BT whispered, smiling confidently. 

  
  


The next morning, BT feigned a power-down as Blisk tip-toed into the kitchen just after dawn and prepared a lavish breakfast.  Jack had been delighted to awaken to good smells and the sound of cheerful, soft whistling. Another night of good sleep had done him well, and Blisk embarked on a day of energetic helpfulness.  Jack balked, trying to help wherever he could, only to be waved down.

"Let him," BT murmured, leaning in and laying a kiss atop Jack's head fondly.  Blisk happened to glance their way as he cleaned up from cooking, and flashed the pair a brilliant smile at the sight of the loving gesture. 

"Wow," Jack gasped, grinning back.

 

The little, unspoken demonstrations of affection and gratitude carried on through the morning.  A hinge was straightened on a cabinet. Windows were cleaned. An insect's nest cleared out of the wind chimes on the porch.  New flowers appeared on the table. Blisk's demeanor had opened up as he relaxed, the merc showing nothing but soft smiles whenever his gaze met with either Jack or BT.  Inspired by his Pilot’s mood, Red spent the greater part of the day in the workshop, enthusiastically cleaning and tidying everything down to the smallest trays of hardware.

This only changed, briefly, when mid-afternoon a truck appeared over the rise, bouncing its way along the rough-cut road to park beside Jack's jeep.  Blisk vanished from his new favorite seat on the porch steps as if he'd never been there at all, without having ever been seen. Jack had been utterly baffled when he looked around for the big man, but BT had simply rumbled in understanding as he cheerfully accepted the delivery.  The young man in uniform didn't think twice about what might have been in the tub-like container he handed over, or think to question who it was for, and had no reason not to believe it wasn’t for one of the two men standing before him. His job done, he was on his way again in minutes.  The moment the sounds of the vehicle had vanished once more, Blisk reappeared looking wary and a shade sheepish. 

“Dun wanna ruin anyone’s day with my ugly mug,” he chortled, attempting to downplay his unease.  

“You call your self ‘ugly’ an awful lot for someone so handsome,” BT purred, approaching Blisk with the rather large box cradled in both hands.  

“Ugly on th’ inside,” Blisk insisted, wrinkling his nose and blushing ever-so-slightly at the compliment.  BT decided he liked the added color in the merc’s features and resolved to endeavor to keep it there, but said nothing of it for the moment.  

“So you say,” he said flatly, telegraphing his disbelief.  Blisk huffed softly but let it drop. Satisfied, BT simply smiled and presented the box to Blisk as he arrived back to the porch. “This is for you,” he went on, stooping to set the parcel down beside Blisk and then having a seat next to it so it was centered between them.  He unlatched the closures and flipped the lid open with a flourish. Inside was what looked like an over-sized jewelry box seated atop a stack of crisply wrapped packages. BT handed the small box over, grinning. 

Blisk gave BT a puzzled look and accepted the offering, delicately pulling the lid open.  His eye widened. 

“Well tha’ was fast…” He mused, pleased.  Inside, his new eye gazed up at him, the glossy lens looking like a perfect match for his natural eye, but further along the sides and back of its orbit, little hints of electronic components and sensors became visible. He stared at it, looking reluctant to even touch it.  “Do Ah jus…” He mimed rather roughly stuffing it into his face, and BT laughed.   
“Would you like assistance?” He purred, grinning when after a moment’s hesitation, Blisk nodded.

“Yeah, mebbe it’s better tha’ way…” He muttered. BT flashed another brilliant smile and nudged the larger box away, turning and folding one leg to sit facing Blisk.  

“Give it here, then,” BT said, holding out his hand and chuckling softly when Blisk still didn’t take the prosthetic from its box, handing the whole thing over instead. BT plucked the delicate piece of electronics from its casing and examined it for a moment before nodding in satisfaction.  “How about you close your eyes, and I’ll take it from there,” BT suggested, scooting a little closer so that their faces were only a foot or so apart. Blisk’s cheeks had gone rosy again, but he complied, giving BT a somewhat doleful glance and then letting the lids to his good eye slide shut.  BT gently tugged away the bandages Blisk had been using to cover his empty socket and indulged in giving the merc’s cheek and jaw a long caress. Blisk’s breath hitched into a breathy little giggle but he didn’t object. “So obedient,” BT purred teasingly. “I have half a mind to steal a kiss.” Blisk’s cheek under BT’s palm nearly ignited with a flush of heat and he made another flustered, breathy sound.  “But business first, I suppose,” BT lamented, raising his hand to gently pry open Blisk’s eyelids with his thumb and forefinger. Blisk tensed but didn’t recoil like he was tempted to, and with a murmured, “here goes,” BT deftly slid the prosthetic into place. He poked at the lens, centering it onto its sensors, and then let Blisk’s eyelids close back down over it. Blisk twitched and shuddered as all the connections seemed to click into place, and then opened his eyes, blinking owlishly at BT.

“Amazing,” he breathed, grinning slowly.  “Ah kin see every pretty little facet in your eyes now.” 

BT would have blushed if he’d been able.  He grinned.

“Pretty, huh?” He rumbled, enjoying how even Blisk’s ears were pink now.  “Perhaps your new eye is malfunctioning?”

“Nope,” Blisk said, smirking. “Feels jus’ like th’ original,” he added, becoming serious again after a beat. 

“Excellent,” BT said, scooting back to a more polite distance once more as he tugged the bigger box back to Blisk.  Further investigation proved it to be full of new clothes for the merc, all tastefully selected and tailored to fit perfectly.  Delighted to be out of the sweats and tee he’d been limited to since leaving the hospital, Blisk had practically danced back into the house with his haul to change.  

Blisk would be the first to admit he was a vain man.  He’d carefully curated an image for himself over the years and maintained it almost religiously.  He cared deeply about how he looked, from the very specific shade of blonde he bleached his hair to the uniform he wore when he was working.  The last couple of days he’d let his routine slip in light of his injuries and lack of access to his usual accouterments, but upon discovering a razor, and even his favorite pomade in amongst the complete array of basic necessities he’d been provided, Blisk hadn’t postponed it a minute more. 

 

BT and Jack sat together in Blisk’s spot on the porch, the pair tittering in amusement at Blisk’s obvious delight at the simple gifts.  The merc had disappeared into the house some time ago, and they waited patiently for his return. 

“Think you knocked that one out of the ballpark, BT,” Jack chuckled.  He’d watched from a polite distance as BT had assisted Blisk with his new eye, and all of Blisk’s delightful reactions to his flirting, and then the gifts. 

“Ya really did,” Blisk agreed, arriving at the front door just in time to hear Jack’s comment.  He was fresh-faced after a shower, his hair slicked back tidily and the edges of his beard and mustache neatened back into crisp lines.  He wore a pair of snug jeans, a muscle shirt, and an enormous grin. “ _ Thank _ you…” He gave BT and Jack both soft glances. “Ah can’t say what a relief it is ta feel a little bit back ta normal…” He limped across the deck to sit at Jack’s side opposite of BT.  

“You’re very welcome, Kuben,” BT purred, grinning back.  

“You look good,” Jack gasped, beaming.  “Good pick, BT,” he added cheekily.  

“An’ ya saw this?” Blisk said, pointing at his new eye.  “Good as new!” 

Jack saw and was rapidly melting into Blisk’s baby blues. 

“Yeah, I did…” He murmured, giving Blisk a dazed smile. Boy, did he.  Blisk turned bright red but smiled.

“Handsome,” BT repeated firmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEH BT's working overtime for this one, folks! XD
> 
> And oh wow sorry to all of you for the big long wait, and for little more than fluffy filler (although I very much wanted to include all of that specifically).  
> I've been struggling for a long time with uneven energy/mood issues and the last couple of weeks have been particularly dramatic where I either can't function, or I can't stop. This has made writing very, very difficult!  
> That in mind... I typically don't post a chapter until I've got the following one written...but this time, I'm just posting it because it's been so long. It's not my best work, and it's a bit disjointed I think, but it's THERE and now I can hopefully move back on to advancing the story a little... so hang in there lovely readers! more to come sooner rather than later I hope!
> 
> EDIT: OH MY GOD WHERE ARE MY MANNERS. Little nod to PilotRyan for this chapter - the Avalon brand scotch, and it's makers, belong to him! <3


	19. Chapter 19

\--19--

It took two entire days to extract the battered chassis from the mud and airlift it back to base.  The custom Legion was bigger and decidedly heavier than a stock model would be, requiring special equipment to move.  Worse still, it had also presented a number of defenses the team sent to retrieve it hadn’t come across before. They’d almost abandoned the project repeatedly, but the Militia wasn’t going to let salvage like that go to waste, and they _certainly_ weren’t going to give up the opportunity to mine it for intel. Not to mention the dead or alive reward on it’s Pilot’s head. 

It wasn’t the first _Apex Predators_ Titan they’d claimed through the years and years of warfare, but it was certainly the most noteworthy. There was no mistaking their prize.  

Only the mercenary group’s kingpin, Kuben Blisk, piloted a Legion.  He was as notorious for his skill with the challenging mech as he was for his ruthlessness.  If that, along with the distinctive livery and all the added armor and security were any indication, they’d nabbed themselves the prize of a lifetime. 

They didn’t know that Blisk had been rescued from the cockpit, now tightly sealed and locked tight from prying hands and eyes, let alone that he’d been offered brief asylum by General Briggs. Furthermore, thanks to how the Titan’s datacore was accessed, there was no external indication it had been removed as well.

 In fact, very few had been privy to Blisk’s treatment at all, and among those, far fewer had been wise to his identity.  The General had carefully swept the whole endeavor under the carpet in order to protect Cooper and BT. 

For all the men unloading the red, white and black Legion into an empty hangar knew, Blisk was still trapped inside, and the Titan’s AI was simply dead, not entirely absent. 

Discovering otherwise was a nasty shock for all involved.

 

“What the hell?!” 

They'd needed to completely disassemble a portion of the Legion's equipment bay just to get to the actuator that held the reinforced canopy firmly shut.  There'd been a number of traps from explosive devices that needed disarming to several components that had been electrified in an effort to keep prying hands and tools away.  Blisk's defenses were varied, and all terribly clever, but the team was seasoned, and they'd eventually gotten in without any fatalities.

There were, however, two technicians now in the hospital. 

This is why Lieutenant Lance Matherson almost couldn't even comprehend the empty space within the cockpit, when he finally cracked the final seal and, with the help of two other men, hauled the reinforced canopy door open.

There had definitely _been_ somebody inside if the mess left behind was any indication.  There was so much blood caked and smeared over nearly everything that for a moment, he had a brief, irrational notion that perhaps the pilot had been somehow vaporized in his seat. This, of course, was immediately disproved by a number of indicators, but it still crossed the poor man's baffled mind.

"What is it?!" Someone called from down below. Matherson's two cohorts atop the Legion's chassis exchanged baffled looks between him and each other.

"It's fucking empty!"

" _WHAT_?!"

"There's no one in here!" He gingerly stepped down into the cockpit, grimacing, and crouched low to check for the Legion's Datacore. "Datacore's gone too!"

"Shit!" 

It was suddenly, alarmingly evident that they had a dangerous war criminal on the loose on Harmony. 

"Better call the Major, Sir," one of the men still perched at the hatch murmured grimly. 

Matherson grimaced.  He really wanted to delegate that call to someone else but knew better.  The only thing that'd cause a bigger uproar than a missing dead mercenary would be if Matherson shirked his responsibilities.  He nodded. "Eeyup. Goddamn it."

 

The crisp echoes of the footsteps of a man moving with a purpose preceded the Major’s arrival into the hangar. The technicians investigating the salvage all exchanged looks and seemed to scatter. Two clambered into the spacious cockpit, surreptitiously taking cover within as the continued to work. The teams’ three youngest were sent away on a convenient errand and three more simply seemed to vanish entirely.  Lieutenant Matherson found himself abandoned in the face of one of the most frightening men he’d ever had the dubious pleasure of working for. 

Major Reyes Gates wasn't an evil, or even unkind man, but he intimidated those around him.  Well into his sixties, he had sharp, black eyes and chiseled, dignified features. He also stood several inches above most and had the build of a champion athlete.  He didn't smile much. He had a habit of adhering to decorum with unprecedented attention to detail at all times. He had the effusion of the perfect soldier about him, his mind was as sharp as his uniform and he wasn't shy about letting his soaring intelligence show.  As clever as Kuben Blisk was, Major Gates was one of the few that could easily outsmart the mercenary.

This was bad news for Blisk since that was exactly the Major's specialty: Outsmarting and tracking down public enemies such as Blisk and making them disappear without so much as a stain to remember them by.  He was the exact kind of man that the Lieutenant had only ever heard rumors about, until now.

"Report."

Matherson's palms were sweating just a little standing in the Major's shadow, the height difference between them significant enough that he was blocking out some of the lights overhead. It'd been less than an hour since he'd summoned the Major, he and his team scrambling in the meantime to further investigate the salvage for a better explanation for the missing mercenary.  They hadn’t found much, and he had the queasy feeling he was in for a firm dressing-down.

"There's no body, Sir." Gates's stony face twitched around the edges in displeasure. Matherson swallowed hard against his suddenly dry mouth, and, fighting a cringe, plowed on.   "The Titan's Datacore is gone as well." Worse than anger, the Major’s face was entirely unreadable.

"Have you checked for hidden panels? Any chance of a stowaway?"

"We're examining the interior now," Matherson replied.

"Have you left the salvage unattended at any time?" Gates murmured, turning his steely gaze off of the relieved Lieutenant to examine the chassis from where they stood.  

"No, Sir. We've been on it non-stop since we brought it in."  This Matherson announced somewhat proudly. They'd been working really hard on the task, by his measure. He couldn’t help but hope for some shred of acknowledgment for that.  He received none. 

"And before that?" Gate’s attention swiveled back to the shorter man just in time to see Matherson grimace. 

"We don't know at what point in the battle the Titan was felled, Sir.  Nobody reported it until salvage rolled in. It may have been a lucky accident."   Major Gates's brows knit as he frowned.

"That seems a bit unlikely, don't you think, Lieutenant?" He asked darkly.  Matherson felt his face go hot but shook his head.

"Not entirely, Sir.  We see it pretty often, actually." One of Gates's eyebrows arched up incredulously. "Err- never with such a high-profile target, however," he amended sheepishly.  Gates stared down at him coolly and Matherson had to fight not to fidget. “There’s one hell of a mess in the cockpit,” he went on, rallying. “He can’t have made it very far. I bet we find him belly up under the first scrap of cover he could get to.”

“You bet,”  The Major rumbled, his voice dangerously soft.  “What would you bet? Your lunch money? The safety of your family? Blisk is clever, and one tough son of a bitch.” Matherson blanched. “We cannot assume his death until we’ve hand-delivered his corpse six feet under, do you understand?” 

The Lieutenant nodded numbly, and Major Gates’s frigid gaze flickered away again as he looked at the crew of men still crawling all over the partially-dismantled Titan.  

“You and your team have done good work, Lieutenant,” The Major said, his frigid attitude thawing, “But we may have a very dangerous criminal on the loose here on Harmony.  Order your men to report anything and everything they find to me, no matter how small or trivial it may seem.” Matherson swallowed hard as the full gravity of the situation settled down over him like a blanket of lead weights. 

“Yes, Sir.”

“I don’t care if all you find are a spare pair of socks. I want to see them,” Gates pressed.  “Tell them. Dismissed.”

“Yes! Sir!” 

 

Just as the Major had suspected, there was no corpse of the infamous mercenary left on the battlefield or, after a thorough combing of the surrounding area, anywhere else nearby either. Luckily for Blisk’s unlikely rescuers, all evidence of their intervention with Blisk’s would-be timely death was obliterated by the efforts it took to extract the salvage of Red’s old chassis. 

General Briggs, when she got the call, had the witts to sound surprised, and duly distressed upon hearing the Major’s report. 

 _“We’ve found no evidence of a body, or the Titan’s AI, Sir.  My concern is that the subject has escaped into one of the nearby cities._ ”

Briggs swore softly.  It hadn’t occurred to her that an abandoned Titan would incite a manhunt when she assisted Cooper and BT. 

Not that it would have changed her course of action, but it would have been nice to nip the problem at the bud. While she had the power to provide aid and asylum to whomever she deemed worthy, she wasn’t the biggest fish in the pond when it came to the Powers That Be within the Militia leadership.  A number of her superiors wouldn’t find her act of altruism very amusing, and Gates didn’t strictly answer to her alone. 

“ _Our only lead so far is we believe we’ve found his comm.  The firewalls on this thing are unbelievable, but my team is working as we speak to hack into it._ ”

Briggs rubbed her face, careful not to groan.  

“Understood, Major.  Keep me posted and keep up the good work.”

“ _Yes, Sir.  I’ll be in touch.  Gates out._ ”

She heaved a sigh as she sat back, thinking. She had some decisions to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ruh Row Raggy!!
> 
> I entertained borrowing one of @Pilot Ryan's OCs in place of Major Gates, who is probably way smarter, and way scarier, but he's just too fucking cool for the role so, I'm holding that card.  
> Trying...TRYING to get back on schedule!  
> R&R your opinions, screeches, and squealing give me life, and the motivation I need to write more!


	20. Chapter 20

\--20--

Jack couldn’t take his eyes off the other man.  He didn’t even try to hide it. His interest in Blisk was no secret, and it seemed to Jack as if the attention was actually doing Blisk some good.  As the afternoon stretched on, the merc had seemed to blossom, opening up and brightening more and more as he relaxed. BT’s little care package had been the perfect thing to nudge Blisk’s already good mood into near euphoria, and his transformation was probably the most magnificent thing Jack had ever witnessed. Years and years of encrusted pain and paranoia were sloughing away from the other Pilot, exposing the living, feeling  _ human _ beneath the shell. 

Blisk’s shoulders sloped with ease, the tension he usually carried draining away. His eyes crinkled at the corners and seemed to sparkle as he smiled.  He grew tactile, sitting hip to hip and even draping one arm around Jack’s back as they sat together on the porch step, watching the sunset. He talked.  

They sat for hours, Jack, and soon enough BT as well, listening avidly as decades of history poured out of the merc now that he had someone to tell it all to.  He spoke of his privileged, wealthy childhood in Capetown where he’d nurtured a number of unexpected hobbies and interests he still invested in to this day. (He promised to teach Jack to surf sometime.) His time with IMC, first as an enlisted, and later as the mercenary he was now known to be.  His family. He’d kept the emotions bottled down, but Red had tellingly emerged from the workshop suddenly, moving in to sit close by in silent watchfulness. He still didn’t discuss his wife much: he simply couldn’t contemplate her for too long at a time, but his love for her had been vibrant, and oh so real.  Meredith, Jack learned, had captured Blisk’s interest with her striking green eyes and no-bullshit attitude, winning him over when they’d teamed up as strangers in the middle of a bar fight. She was all flame and vinegar, Blisk fondly describing her as a human time-bomb. Some fifteen years or so later her betrayal, no matter how justified, still hurt him something awful.  He confessed he’d never discussed any of this with anyone, and even Red had learned something new. Blisk said he felt he could finally face it now that he could look Jack in the eye and know for sure that the future could be bright once again. 

Jack would find himself days, weeks, and even years later contemplating that, his throat closing and his heart swelling with love each time.

“My girls are somewhere here on Harmony, too…” Blisk had whispered, just as the evening light had finally vanished and the brightest stars began to show through the twilight.  “Ah wish Ah could track ‘em down, but they’d nev’a have me.” At best he’d be turned away. More likely, Blisk thought, he’d be shot where he stood or turned in immediately. He’d done phenomenally poorly, by his own description, as a father.  Hearing the accounts of Blisk’s life during his daughter’s childhood, Jack couldn’t help but agree, though he wished the two now-women could see that, despite everything, their father truly did love them in his own misguided way.

“Maybe someday, we’ll be able to show them,” Jack whispered, sighing softly as Blisk leaned firmly against him for comfort.  From their stations above the two men on the porch, BT and Red exchanged knowing looks as Blisk agreed.

“Yeah...mebbe someday we will.”

 

After two nights sandwiched between Jack and BT on the couch, the bedroom felt lonely. 

Blisk stared at the ceiling, huffing softly to himself.  His legs ached: he'd overdone it today, spending far too much time on his feet and even worse, off the crutches. He'd be back on them tomorrow for sure.  His battered ribs, at least, were nothing more than a negligible twinge now. He wasn't cold. Jack had seen to that, to the extreme, but Blisk couldn't help but think about how he could be  _ warmer _ .  He thought about how he'd blushed like a schoolgirl when BT had threatened to kiss him.  He rather wished he had, his gut turning warm at the mere thought of it. The Vanguard had no compunctions about expressing his interest in him, and Blisk didn't think it'd be very long before he caved in to further advances.

Truly, he only held back to give Jack, who was as reserved as BT was assertive, a chance to catch up.  Or that’s what he told himself, anyway.

He knew he wasn't doing himself any favors, doing this.  

His mind wandered, wide awake despite the late hour.  He wanted to find somewhere they could go and be anonymous.  Be themselves, together. For the strangest reason, Blisk kept thinking of how he wanted to take Jack dancing.  Among a great many other things. He could think of a half-dozen planets he wanted to show the younger Pilot as well. Beautiful, exotic worlds isolated from the war and untouched by its ravages.  Yes. He’d start with the water-covered planet Lycoris, with its endless nights and glittering skies; its black, mirror-like oceans reflecting the stars like millions and millions of diamonds. He’d never been there himself, but he’d heard about its dream-like scenery with floating islands, bioluminescent flora, and inexplicable gravity anomalies that could at times cause total weightlessness at the point of origin.  He’d never wanted to go alone, but he now wanted nothing more than to go there with Jack and BT. 

It was terrifying how easy it was for him to imagine a future with them. Imagine  _ life _ going on as carefree and full of love and joy as it had been that day.  His injuries seemed so far away. The IMC seemed like another lifetime ago.  _ Kuben Blisk _ of the  _ Apex Predators _ seemed like a different man altogether.  It would be all too easy to just let go of the life behind him and walk right into the embrace of the better life he’d been dreaming of. All he had to do was take that first step, but his knees seemed to have locked. 

He groaned softly, covering his face with both hands.  He was waiting for them, and he knew he shouldn't when they were so obviously waiting for  _ him _ .  It was his job to make the first move. He was the skittish one. He was the one with the knife wounds in his heart, and the urge to hesitate.  They were both simply too kind to push him. He’d die waiting, at this rate. 

He had to get moving.

There, sprawled in the dark, sleepless and with his head tumbling, Blisk gathered up his considerable courage.

"BT."

He didn't raise his voice, didn't call out. Simply murmured the name and waited, trusting BT would hear. 

A few long moments passed, feeling like hours, and Blisk started to wonder if he was actually as stupid as he felt, when the Titan cracked open the bedroom door and peeked in. Blisk sat up and offered him a crooked smile through the darkness. BT cocked his head and stepped in, shutting the door softly behind him.

"Not sleeping, Kuben?" He whispered, approaching slowly.  "Everything all right?"

"Naah, ain't sleepin," Blisk confirmed. “You know how it is.”  BT padded his way fully into the room, coming to sit at the foot of the bed, facing the merc.  

"What can we do to help?" He asked.  It had initially bothered Blisk that BT so often spoke for Jack, but he'd come to realize that their Link was definitely strong enough that the two likely shared thoughts as clearly as speaking aloud. He'd managed as much from time to time with Red but often preferred to keep the Legion at more of a distance.  He wondered if he should reconsider that habit.

"Don't suppose you two'd mind keepin' me company," Blisk whispered.  "Keep thinkin' a how much better Ah feel havin' ya with me."

“Oh,  _ Kuben _ , Of course!” BT sighed, shooting Blisk a glittery smile. "Let me collect Jack," BT said, his eager delight obvious.  Blisk smiled back at BT, tickled by the little flutter of excitement he'd incited in the Titan, and surreptitiously scooted closer to the center of the enormous bed as the Vanguard hurried out. Still smiling to himself, he hunkered down at got comfortable, but watched the door with interest until, only moments later, BT reappeared.  Blisk broke into a big grin. BT had a half-awake and bleary-eyed Jack cradled in his arms, the younger Pilot looking mildly put off to have been disturbed until he spotted Blisk watching them.  

“Kuben!” He held out his arms on reflex as if he could summon the merc to him. 

“Kuben’s asked we keep him company,” BT rumbled, filling Jack in now that he appeared more awake. “I took the liberty of agreeing on your behalf.”  Jack’s smile brightened and he nodded in acceptance as BT carried him over to the bed. Blisk rolled onto his side and opened his arms to them both, letting out a big, happy sigh as BT placed Jack beside him.  He could see Jack watching him through the darkness, smiling and hopeful.

“May I?” Jack breathed, inching a hair closer as he laid a questioning touch over Blisk’s shoulder.  In reply, Blisk simply reached out and hauled the other man in close, cradling Jack against his chest.

Both men shuddered, softly groaning in harmony.

“Thas’ better…” Blisk sighed, gathering Jack up as snugly as possible and arranging him so that his head was tucked under Blisk’s chin.  Jack let out a soft, happy coo and wiggled his way in helpfully, encouraging the merc in his advances. Blisk blew out a long breath and settled down with a contented rumble. He’d expected his heart to be racing, but instead, he was suffused with a sense of calmness that had evaded him for decades. “Shoulda’ jus’ done this from th’ start…” He breathed, nosing into Jack’s hair.

“Kuben…” The name came out loaded with emotion and Jack clung hard, squeezing his arms around Blisk’s back hard enough to make his arms shake. 

“Kin Ah stay?” Blisk whispered.  “Kin we be like this, from now on?” He shivered again, twitching as BT slid into the bed behind him, pressing in against his back and hugging him around the middle. Jack pulled back just enough to look Blisk in the eyes.

“Oh, would you?” He gasped, lighting up with joy.  

“Ah’m askin’ you!” Blisk chuckled, grinning.  Jack laughed joyously and nodded, speechless. Blisk’s heart felt fit to burst it was swelling so fast. He was still smiling down at Jack when, without thinking, he leaned in and pressed his lips to the other Pilot’s forehead.  He’d hardly even realized what he’d done until Jack’s breath caught audibly. Blisk’s face turned hot. “Oh! I ahh…” Should he apologize? Had he gone too far?  
“Don’t stop,” Jack whispered, his voice small as he somehow managed to squeeze even closer against Blisk’s body, their ankles tangling. _That_ made Blisk’s heart stutter into a brief gallop, but he ignored it.  There’d be plenty of chances for thrills later. For now, he wanted, just once in his life, to savor the unique joy of falling in love. 

“Alright,” he promised, “Ah won’t.”  He laid his lips back over Jack’s forehead, not-quite kissing, but gaining those extra inches of skin-to-skin contact. BT let out a pleased murmur at his shoulder.  Blisk shuddered, moaning softly at the open-mouthed kiss pressed into the back of his neck, but made no attempt to protest as BT repeated the gesture over and over, making Blisk’s breath hitch and his nerves sing.   He was still kissing and nibbling languidly at the mercenary’s neck, jaw, and ear as Jack finally dozed off again, smiling to himself in his sleep. Only then did BT back off, nuzzling in.  

“Think you can sleep now, darling?” He purred, whispering straight into Blisk’s ear and making the hair on his arms stand up.  Blisk shivered but smiled as he tilted his head back just a little to look at the Vanguard out of the corner of his eye. 

“Yeah, Ah think Ah can.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff fluff fluffy fluff! 
> 
> Ya'll be happy to know that this fic is taking a turn in a direction totally unrelated to where I originally planned, but I'm so friggen happy it has.   
> Not this chapter, though. This has been planned for ages X)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't wait any longer to post again XD
> 
> You're welcome.

\--21--

The Lieutenant wasn’t sleeping, either.  He was still in their makeshift workshop, seated at a fold-up desk at the foot of the half-disassembled Legion, laboring away long after the Major, and all of his men, had gone.  Matherson was determined - no- _desperate_ to make some headway on tracking down any sort of clue that might point them toward Blisk.  They’d found his comm, battered and narrowly surviving being crushed, down in a crevice between part of the collapsed canopy, and the cockpit floor. It had taken the Militia’s Intelligence Division’s best hackers all day to break all of Blisk’s encryptions and firewalls, and Matherson would be damned if he’d wait until morning to have a look.  

So here he sat, in the darkest hours of the night, freezing cold in the drafty hangar, with a tablet tethered to the beat-up comm, which in turn was hard-lined to an override device that was working on overtime to keep the whole thing from shutting down due to their tampering. 

One at a time, he was checking every name in the comms’ contact database, cross-checking them against the Militia’s vast intelligence thinktank.  He’d started hours ago, but Blisk had amassed quite the list of constituents over time, and after what felt like an eternity of thumbing through one at a time with no luck, Matherson had frankly grown bored and started checking them in random batches. He stared blearily at the datapad as another set of names chugged through the computer, spitting out results in a woefully concise databurst.

**_Austad, Roderick: Age: 47; Wanted for arrest; Reward: 20,000C.  Bradshaw, Nick:IMC Pilot:Deceased. Carr, Conrad:IMC. Wanted for Arrest; Reward: 10,000C.  Dutchess:Unkn. Fox, Desdemona:Age:22 Militia Enlisted;Rank:RC1;Deployment. Loveless, Merik: Age:65 Wanted for arrest; Reward: 22,000C. Metcalf, Mike:ApexPredators Pilot:Deceased.  Mitchell, Pete:Age:39:IMC Pilot. RED:Unkn. Ryan, Jason:Age:33;IMC Pilot;IMC Wanted-Dead;Militia Wanted-Dead; Reward: 80,000C._ **

More criminals, and IMC thugs...blah blah blah... He must have seen a hundred names of such ilk already, and even the occasional weird code names or whatever such as "Red" and "Dutchess", while eye-catching, were frequently unhelpful.  In this lot, however, one listing gave him significant pause. 

What in the seven systems was a Militia Rifleman's contact information doing in Kuben Blisk's comm?! Red flags waved and klaxons sounded in Matherson's head, the Lieutenant silently celebrating with much fanfare as he finally got the lead he was looking for. Without even thinking, he had his own comm out and was calling the Major before he realized the time of night...or morning.  Horror struck him, but when Major Gates answered, his voice was as cool and clear as if it'd been just past lunchtime.

" _Yes, Lieutenant?_ "  Matherson swallowed the knot of guilt and fear down, trying not to sound too excited as he replied.

"Sir, I think I've found something."

 

The Major arrived with coffee for them both: a silent and subtle reward for Lieutenant Matherson's diligence. But that was all. In the back of his mind, Gates was aware that the younger man had been slaving away to please him, and that a compliment or two might do wonders, but it was simply too big of a case for him to go soft now.  It was nearing three am by the time he arrived back at the hangar, and Matherson was looking pale, his salute feeble and his posture lax, but he looked at Gates like a gift from heaven when he'd handed over the second coffee. That, hopefully, would do to boost the other's morale, for now.

"Let's see what you have, there," he prompted when Matherson seemed to briefly check out as he simply hugged the delightfully warm cup against his chest. Matherson startled, coming out of his reverie, and hurried to nudge the jury-rigged comm and datapad assembly over to where Gates took a seat at the makeshift desk.

His eyebrows shot up at the list of names, nearly half of them jumping out at him immediately.

"Jesus Christ," he murmured, shaking his head as he used the actual comm to bring up further details first on Austad, and then Ryan.  "This is astounding," he went on, grinning darkly.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Matherson was peeking over his shoulder, watching in confusion.  "Who are they?" He watched as Gates opened what turned out to be an extremely detailed dossier regarding a man with alarmingly green eyes and the most venomous smile Matherson had ever seen. Gates looked over his shoulder at the Lieutenant, his expression incredulous.  If Matherson had been more awake he'd have enjoyed finally getting more of a reaction than stony-faced neutrality out of his superior. As it was, he was too groggy to experience anything more than embarrassment.

"That," Gates sighed, taking a moment to copy the entire folder over to the datapad for later perusal, "Is Scythe. You know who _that_ is, yes?"

"Holy shit." Matherson breathed, wide-eyed as he nodded.

"His twin brother is one of our brightest, but this son of a bitch," he tapped the screen, "Has been terrorizing militants and civilians alike for years.  This'll lead us right to the bastard," Gates said, sounding almost excited. "I'd assumed that's what you found, but...?" He trailed off, giving Matherson an expectant look. 

"No, Sir," Matherson admitted. He'd not recognized the name at all until a callsign had been referenced.  He wondered, now, who some of the other Pilots listed could be. "Here," he reached past the Major, bringing up the ten names from his last search again, and tapping at the single Militia outlier of the bunch. Gates stared down at the information, baffled as he read it over several times to make sure he was interpreting it correctly.

"What the hell?"

"That's what I said! ...Sir," Matherson blurted, cowing in embarrassment at his own outburst a split second later. Gates stood suddenly, gathering up the little tangle of electronics as he did. 

"Get yourself to bed, Lieutenant, and take a day off tomorrow.  You've done good work, but I'm escalating this out of your paygrade."

Matherson managed to look simultaneously hurt and relieved, and he nodded, standing much more slowly and saluting. 

"Thank you, Sir," he said tiredly.

 

She hadn't been expecting company, but the crisp knock on her apartment door came anyway. She set aside her datapad and stood from where she'd been curled on a battered old sofa, and padded over to the door, cracking it open.

"Yes?" She poked her head out as she hid behind the door.  It was a rare day off, and though she was decent enough in her baggy pajamas and over-sized sweater, she was loathe to expose her sloppy state of dress.  More so, while she didn't really expect any sort of assault in the heart of the Militia's largest base, she was cautious by nature and didn't care to simply throw open the front door and expose herself and her home to a stranger. The man waiting in the hallway was wearing a crisply pressed uniform, and a severe, stony expression. There was a pause as she took in his hard features, peppered hair, and towering build before she caught sight of his rank and snapped to attention, opening the door fully and saluting. 

"Is there a Miss Desdemona or Vanessa Fox present?"  His tone and the way his eyes fixed on hers suggested he already knew the answer.  She nodded.

"I'm Desdemona, Sir," She said. She looked like him, Gates thought, with the exact same ice-blue eyes, broad face, and a somewhat surly resting expression. This young woman clearly had a chip on her shoulder, even if she put up a tolerably polite front. She looked like a punk, and he was surprised she'd been allowed to enlist at all, given her heritage.  He took a step forward, crowding her in the doorway, but she held her ground.

"And your sister?" The Major asked.  Desdemona was beginning to feel a hair nervous.  What was this about?

"At the Clinic, Sir." His eyebrow went up.

"Is she sick?" He asked, his tone deliberately flat. 

"She suspects she's pregnant, Sir," Desdemona answered honestly, a hint of her distaste for _that_ little nugget creeping into her voice.  It was apparently a satisfying answer, and he moved on. 

"May I enter? I have some questions for you." She hesitated for a half a heartbeat, her eyes darting from his face to the subtly placed Spec Ops pin on his lapel, and again to his rank, and decided she probably didn't actually have a choice. 

"Of course," She said, stiffly pleasant.  "Please, Sir, come in." She stepped aside and let him enter. 

She watched him scan the little shoe-box of an apartment she shared with her twin sister, his eyes falling on the lone, dilapidated couch.  The decision to stay standing was clear on his face as he said, "Have a seat, Miss Fox." He still hadn't told her his name. She sat, spine ramrod-straight, and waited. 

"My name is Major Reyes Gates," he said, his expression still as hard and foreboding as ever.  "I'm the head of the Militia’s Special Investigations unit." Her eyes widened a little. She didn't rock the boat, didn't cause trouble, nor did she associate with anyone who did.  Her sister was even milder. Their mother, from what they'd been told, also had an impeccably clean record from her time in service as well. Over and over, she wondered why he was paying her a visit.  It didn't bode well at all. She was nervous.

He reached into a pocket, and produced the most beat-up comm she'd ever seen, holding it up for her to see. "Does this look familiar to you?"  The screen was dark and littered with cracks and looking entirely like it’d been run over by a truck. She frowned.

"Not at all," she said, confused. He handed it to her, and then pulled out another small, nondescript box with a single cable running from it. He plugged it into the comm, and the screen lit up.  

Desdemona let out a hiss, dropping the thing instantly.  A few bits of the cracked front chipped away as it struck the floor with a thud. 

Staring up at them from the illuminated screen was an all too familiar emblem: a ghoulish looking skull of some vicious beast with curled horns and fanged teeth, framed starkly in red and black. "Ugh!" She actually recoiled, kicking it away from her. Gate's eyebrows shot up in interest.

"Change your mind?" He asked smoothly, unbothered by her dramatic reaction.  Desdemona fixed him a barely withheld glare. 

"I recognize _that_ ," she jabbed her finger at the still illuminated screen and the logo emblazoned on it, "and I want nothing to do with it!" 

"Curious," the Major purred, giving her a chilly smile. "No loyalty to your father?"  Desdemona's lip curled in distaste. 

"He's nothing but a genetics donor.  I'd kill him myself given the chance. What do you want from me?" She paused, remembering belatedly the man in front of her was a superior officer. "...Sir."

"Kill him yourself, hmm?" Gates said, not quite mockingly.

"He murdered our mother," Desdemona said darkly.  "He's a monster that needs to be put down."

"You don't talk?"  He asked.

"Why would we?" She countered.  He picked up the discarded comm, waving it slightly before tapping at the battered screen for a moment then turning it back for her to see. She glared at what was undeniably her name and her number displayed. 

"It wasn't for lack of trying," she huffed, producing her own comm.  After a moment, she handed it over to him, showing that the number corresponding with Blisk's comm had been blocked for just over a year.  "But I want nothing to do with him. What is this about, Sir?" Major Gates stared down at her for a long moment, his dark eyes calculating.

"Your father-"

" _Please_ , Sir, don't call him that!" Desdemona blurted, blushing and murmuring an apology for interrupting.  Gates nodded in acceptance, letting the faux pas slide.

"Blisk," he started over, correcting himself, "was involved in the battle here on Harmony last week.  His Titan was shot down, and we've recovered the chassis, but there was no Pilot, and no Datacore to be found." Desdemona blanched.  "This means that we are very likely to have an extremely dangerous criminal loose on our hands." 

"Well he's not here," Desdemona said firmly. "And if he shows up, you'll be the first to know."

“Ah, I was hoping that would be the case,” Gates sighed as if deeply relieved.  He handed her a calling card. “We believe he may be badly injured,”  
“Good!” Desdemona spat, interrupting the Major yet again.  This time he fixed her a stern look.

“-so he may indeed try to come to you. I expect to hear about it immediately,” Gates plowed on, disregarding her outburst.  “Understood?” Desdemona jumped to her feet and saluted, her eyes bright and determined. 

“Yes, Sir!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RUH-ROW RAGGY. Σ(°Д°υ)  
> Shit is once again speeding right toward the fan, and poor lovesick Kubie and co are oblivious ;>.>
> 
> ALSO  
> That list of names out of Blisk's comm, by the way, are all specific references. Most of them regarding characters I have, or will have Blisk interact with in my writings, but we've got a cameo mention from @PilotRyan's OC Jace/Scythe (because I love him) but ALSO a handful of SUPER-DUPER-NERDY easter eggs, based on something I read from Respawn Devs once. I'll explain every one of them in the next chapter but feel free to throw out some guesses. THAT SAID. It may be a reference from before ya'll's time so I might be carbon dating myself here >.>
> 
> Finally - I think this is the first time in my fanfiction writing history that I've had an entire chapter with nothing but original characters?? Once upon a time, OCs used to irk the living daylights out of me (I've reformed, obvs! lol Guess who fixed that?! hmmmmm.....!). For those of you like I used to be- don't worry, they're all in there for a reason, and we'll be returning to our faves on the regular. :)


	22. Chapter 22

\--22--

It was the perfect morning for breakfast in bed. Blisk sat propped upright, nursing the coffee BT had brought him and watching the sunrise out the bedroom window.  Jack was still curled against him and was now hugging Blisk’s thigh in his sleep, undisturbed by the movement around him or the golden-pink sunlight filling the room. BT sat up as well, examining a datapad in silence, but kept one arm pressed against Blisk’s.  Blisk couldn’t see what he was reading but noted he kept smiling to himself. 

 

Dawn came and went, and morning rolled in behind it.  Jack had woken up enough to rest his head in Blisk’s lap but hadn’t moved from that position since.  He tangled his fingers into Blisk’s, petting his knuckles lovingly as Blisk watched in silent awe, still uncertain as to what the younger man saw in him that was worthy of such adoration. 

Blisk couldn’t think of another moment in his life that he’d been this content.  His heart was soaring up in the clouds, aching with a joy greater than anything he’d ever thought possible.

BT had risen and gone to prepare them breakfast, and Blisk kept thinking he should go and help, but he couldn't bear to pull away from the other Pilot. Not yet anyway.  He cleared his throat softly and Jack turned his brilliant, adoring gaze upward at him, making Blisk's heart kick and stutter in his chest.

"Fuckin' hell!" Blisk gasped, unable to resist smiling back.  "Ah don't deserve ta be looked at like that, Sweetheart," he said, chuckling when Jack's beatific smile twisted into a teasing pout. "Ah don't!" Blisk insisted, curling down to hug Jack around the shoulders firmly.  Jack let out a happy groan, pushing up into Blisk's arms encouragingly.

"I don't care about that," he countered, finally pulling away as Blisk released him to sit up alongside the merc. "You know I don't." He helped himself to Blisk's shoulder, cuddling in and propping his chin on it to continue smiling at the older man from there.

"Ah know," Blisk conceded, giving Jack a sideways glance and a fond smirk.  Heavens above, he was in love with this man. “An’ Ah’m sure glad.” 

  
  


Blisk hobbled out to the little workshed behind the house in search of Red.  BT and Jack had remained behind inside, and he suspected the pair were ready for a little time to themselves.  He was perfectly content to oblige them, and he had his own business to attend to, anyway.  

He found Red parked in one corner, fiddling with a little solar generator he’d pulled out of a heap of scavenged machinery.  He’d managed to repair something new almost every day since his arrival, making sure that Jack and BT would be well-situated in return for their hospitality.  He looked up, however, as he noticed his Pilot’s approach. Blisk heaved himself up onto a stool beside the Titan with a soft groan, relieved to be off his feet.  Red offered him a sweet little chirp but said nothing as he waited patiently. Blisk didn’t often seek him out casually.

“So, aaah,” Blisk began.  His tone was almost bashful, and Red turned away from his project entirely to give him his full attention, curious. “We… Jack an’ I...an’ BT too… we got somethin’.  It’s…” He fidgeted, and Red cocked his head.

“Something?”

“Chemistry.  It’s… Think Ah’m in love, Bud,” Blisk gasped, grinning crookedly to himself. “Ah wanna stay… an’ Ah think they’ll have me… have us.”  Red let out another chirp, high and elated, and he bounced on his peds slightly as he processed what Blisk meant. “So Ah’m retirin’ once an’ fer all,” Blisk carried on, his accent turning thick with emotion as he excitedly declared his intent, “an’ we’re stayin, yeah?  So go ahead an’ get comfortable.” Blisk couldn’t contain his joy, the white-hot bubbles of overwhelming jubilance flooding out of him down the Link and making Red almost as giddy as his Pilot. He’d felt the change happen, but hadn’t understood the half-hidden emotions emanating from Blisk.  Love. That was love!

“Oh, heavens!” Red blurted, lurching forward to throw his arms around Blisk in a bone-crushing hug.  “I’m so happy!” Blisk let him hug him, chuckling softly as he patted at Red’s metallic shoulder with a series of soft clunks.  

“So don’t be such a stranger, yeah?” Blisk went on, only somewhat more seriously.  “You’re part ‘a this family too, yeah? Ah know Ah ain’t been th’ best ta ya, but Ah want ta change.  They deserve bett’a, an’ so do you. Ah’m gonna make it happen.” It was a big promise, but Blisk’s eyes burned with determination. Red didn’t doubt for a minute he’d follow through with every bit of it. Blisk spoke of change, but in that moment, Red saw that his Pilot was once again the strong, confident soul he’d been when they first met nearly eight years prior. Only this time, his heart was in the right place.  He gave Blisk one last squeeze and then pulled away to a more polite distance, knowing Blisk wasn’t the casual hugging type.

“I have every faith in you, Pilot,” Red rumbled happily, wiggling down the Link to send him a blast of joy and affection.  Blisk let out a surprised little laugh, generally unfamiliar with the extent of his Titan’s emotional capabilities, and gave Red’s shoulder another gentle pat.

“Thanks, Bud.” 

  
  


“Alright, Jack, you lost this round.”  BT’s voice had gone almost syrupy with smugness as his Pilot huffed and tossed down the cards he’d been holding. The trio had decided to while away their evening with a few drinks and a hybrid game of strip poker mixed with truth-or-dare that had mostly dwindled into just strip poker.  Currently, Jack was peeling off his last sock, leaving him bare down to his briefs. Blisk wasn’t much better, sitting in awkward bemusement in nothing but his boxers and shirt. He was still trying to decide if he’d take his shorts or his shirt off next, equally uncomfortable about showing off his junk as he was the mangled mess of his chest.  BT was fully dressed, having not lost a single round.

“Ah’m pretty sure someone’s cheatin’,” Blisk chuckled, giving BT a wry smile. The Titan grinned back but said nothing, opting not to confirm nor deny the accusation. 

“Damn it, BT!” Jack huffed, taking his turn to deal. “You’re killing me!”  He was starting to shiver, just slightly. It was the first cool evening of the summer, autumn looming not far off.  Blisk couldn’t peel his eyes off the stark black and red lines of Jack’s tattoo as it writhed its way up the other Pilot’s arm, across his shoulder, to his chest.  He was well-traveled enough to recognize the starmap for what it was, Earth and its solar system nestled right over Cooper’s heart. His fingers itched with the urge to trace over each clean, crisp lines.  He gripped his cards a little harder than necessary as he yanked his eyes away to examine them.   
“You could opt for a truth instead, My Love,” BT chuckled, his devilish smile widening as, moments later, Blisk turned hot pink in horror at the hand he’d been dealt.  Jack let out a groan of relief as they all showed their hands. BT feigned surprise as he compared his and Blisk’s cards. “Excellent!” He laughed. “Which will it be, Darling?” He leaned in, smiling eagerly at Blisk. “Going to give us a show?” 

Blisk thought his face might actually combust as it grew hotter and hotter under the Titan’s saucy teases.  He fidgeted, mulling over his decision, and finally peeled away his shirt with a good-natured grumble. 

To his surprise, he was not met with murmurs of shock or sympathy like he was used to. Instead, Jack let out a low wolf-whistle and BT playfully fanned himself.  

“How do you do that?!” Jack gasped appreciatively, reaching out and not-quite touching the merc’s astoundingly bulky musculature. Blisk’s face got even redder, and he started to stammer around a stunned smile.  

He was spared the obligation to attempt an answer when Jack’s comm began to chirp.  All eyes swiveled to the little object, buzzing away where it sat on the coffee table between them, but it was BT that picked it up.

“Well hello, Sarah,” He purred, standing and padding away from the table as he spoke. 

" _ BT?  Where's Jack? _ "  The General’s voice could just be made out for a moment before BT simply transferred the call to his internal communications array, continuing on silently. 

"Oh, he's here with Kuben and I,"  he told her, grinning back briefly at the two men before crossing the room to toss a blanket into Blisk’s lap.  There was a long pause as Briggs processed this. BT watched Blisk gather up the blanket eagerly, but then scoot in close to Jack to drape it over them both.  

"Playing cards, I imagine," Briggs drawled hopefully, oblivious to what the Titan was observing.

"Actually, yes!" BT chuckled. "This game is "Sexy Truth or Dare".  It's been a fun bonding exercise. Kuben has the most endearing blushing habit."   Indeed, both he and Jack were red-faced and looking just slightly punch-drunk as they pressed into one another for warmth.  Briggs let out a choked sound. 

“Damn it, BT I didn’t want that picture!” She complained.

“I don’t see why not! It’s terribly charming,” BT insisted, barely containing his laughter.  

“So...there’s really a thing there, isn’t there?” She asked, the uncomfortable grimace clear in her voice.  

“Oh, absolutely,” BT sighed, his own tone turning dreamy and winsome.  There was another long pause as Briggs made note of this detail as well.  She sighed.

“Then you need to get him off-planet as soon as possible,” she said, her tone serious.  “Intel’s picked up his Titan’s chassis. The wrong people are noticing that there was no body in the wreckage and there’s an active investigation as to his whereabouts.”  BT’s smile vanished, his expression going stony. Luckily, Blisk and Jack were too busy with each other to notice. “I’m not going to rat you guys out, but this comes from over my head and there’s not much I can do to stop it.”

“I see,” BT sighed.  “I was afraid this would be the case.   May I ask who’s leading the investigation?” 

“Major Reyes Gates,”  Briggs said, sounding tense just from uttering the name.  “He’s one of Spec Ops’ best. I’ve seen this guy on the job before, you’ve got a couple of days, tops.”  BT nodded thoughtfully to himself.

“Noted.  Thank you for your assistance, General,” BT intoned somberly.  “It may be a while before we’re able to get in touch, but we’ll give you an update when we’re able.”

“You need to get off-planet,” Briggs insisted.  “Or be prepared to turn him in.” 

“I have a plan,” BT murmured, his battle computer already racing, several subroutines kicking into overdrive.  “Trust me.” 

BT ended the call and turned back to the two men huddled on the couch, now watching him expectantly.  BT smiled.

“The General was curious to see how your prosthetic was working, Kuben,” he purred. “And, I imagine, to ensure you hadn’t done us any misdeeds during your visit,” he added with a chuckle, returning to rejoin them.  Blisk and Jack exchanged a look, the later giggling. “You’ll be relieved to know,” BT went on smoothly, “that I assured her that aside from the cardinal sin of keeping most of your clothes on, you’d been on your best behavior.”  To BT’s genuine delight, Blisk’s face ignited pink all over again, the merc back to sputtering in shock. Jack’s giggles grew into outright laughter. Finally, the shock faded again and Blisk joined in with a good belly-laugh of his own.  Only then did Jack and BT exchange a fleeting, poignant look as the Titan managed to relay the true nature of Brigg’s call. Jack’s face twitched briefly, the barest glimpse of terror crossing his sun-kissed features before he schooled everything back into a facade of calm, and he went on laughing as if nothing were amiss. 

Without missing a beat, the game resumed, Blisk blissfully unaware as BT artfully multitasked dealing out the next round of cards as he silently made another call.  

“Commander, if your offer still stands, I have a proposal for a new candidate for Refuge…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Merry Christmas, Ya Filthy Animal!"
> 
> I've been terribly busy lately! I've been TRYING to get the next chapter written before I posted this one, but with the Hubby and I traveling for Christmas, it was now or...like a week from now so. There you go. Have some delightfully cheesy fluff!
> 
> Also, not one of you caught the Top Gun references in the last chapter...which I both expected, but am bummed out about anyway XD


	23. Chapter 23

\--23--

Vanessa Fox sat alone on the tram home, her hands on her belly as she let herself become lost in thought. Though there were no outward signs to show it yet, she had just confirmed she was now an expecting mother. It was good news. She had always wanted to be a mother first, and whatever else she became in life, second, and she was thrilled to learn of the precious little life she carried within her.  

The turn of events did, however, bring to light some dirty laundry she’d do well to air out before too much time passed. 

When she wasn’t dreaming of becoming a mother, Vanessa kept her day job as an enlisted nurse in the emergency ward at the Liberty Capital Hospital. It was cushy, with all of the benefits of being enlisted with the Militia, and none of the risks.  She was safe from deployment, unlike her baby’s father, and enjoyed a regular schedule, with additional compensation and perks most soldiers never even dreamed of. It allowed her to support herself, and her sister, and left her confident that she would have no trouble supporting her soon-to-arrive child as well. 

It had also allowed her the dubious privilege of crossing paths with a very particular patient, not too long ago.

“ _He loves you both dearly, you know, despite everything._ ”  She had done her duty when her father came into her care with the same effort and diligence she would see to any soldier, but it had been particularly difficult nonetheless. She didn’t like to think that, had Jack Cooper’s Titan-disguised-as-a-man not been there standing guard over the mercenary for the exact entirety of his visit at Liberty Hospital, that she may have acted otherwise.  Blisk had done she and her sister no favors in their lives. At best, he was an absentee father, leaving them and their mother alone and arguably fatherless for nearly the entirety of their childhood. At worst, he was one of the nastiest, evilest murderers she could think of. She would never forget the day, not long after their fourteenth birthday, when every news vid had shown his face, the IMC proudly announcing his credit to the total destruction of their hometown.  There was nothing but ashes left after Blisk had razed the place, and while the twins had luckily been off-planet at the time, nobody had ever heard from their mother again. 

There was no reconciling that memory with the battered, threadbare man she’d helped save, and days later it still haunted her. 

General Briggs had personally sworn each and every member of staff who encountered Blisk during his visit to secrecy, but as far as she knew, Vanessa was the only one that the decorated hero, BT-7274 had deemed necessary to pull aside for his own address as well. 

He couldn’t threaten her with court marshal as Briggs had, but that had been what she’d been expecting when he beckoned her to his side as she left the recovery room shortly after she’d realized just who was in her care.  Instead, he’d calmly done his best to reassure her that the unconscious war criminal had turned a new leaf: that he was as trapped in this war as any of them, and that he was desperately searching for a way out. That he had somehow miraculously befriended BT and Pilot Cooper, and that Briggs had offered Blisk secret asylum thanks to their vetting.  He told her that, despite his failed relationship with them and their mother, that Kuben Blisk loved his daughters above all else.

She didn’t know what to do with the information. She could hardly even process it.

She had been sworn to secrecy. No-one was to know of Blisk’s stay on Harmony.  She hadn’t even told her twin sister.

She needed to tell her.

Vanessa only hoped that Desdemona wouldn’t do anything rash when she learned about their father’s alarmingly close proximity to their home. 

Perhaps it was the fabled clairvoyance often shared between twins that caused all of this to abruptly tumble around in her mind persistently as, back home, her volatile sister had just learned for herself of Blisk’s unwanted presence on Harmony, and was indeed planning something rash. Vanessa knew none of this, but she felt a distinctly urgent need to get home anyway. 

 

Desdemona barely waited for the door to close fully as the Major saw himself out, snatching up a nearby datapad and typing furiously into it, her mind racing as she hunkered down back on the couch.  She would track the bastard down out of sheer spite if that was all she had to work with. She typed madly, pulling up several news outlets from around the globe and began searching almost frantically for anything even remotely related to the mercenary. _Apex Predators.  Kuben Blisk. IMC Pilot.  Pilot. Injured Pilot._  Nothing. Surely _someone_ had seen him _somewhere._  

She was still searching without any sort of success at all and growing increasingly frustrated as she did when her sister returned.

Vanessa was all smiles as she let herself in, bolstering herself with the good news to keep the bad from leaking out into her features as she greeted Desdemona with her usual enthusiasm. 

“Guess who’s gonna be an auntie!” She cheered, bouncing in and giving Desdemona a big hug around the shoulders.  Desdemona, however, barely looked up from her datapad. "Des?" While Vanessa was quite used to her sister's hardened disposition, she was also more acclimated to a far warmer reception.  All they had was each other, after all. 

Desdemona looked up, shaken out of her intense focus by the tone of her sister's voice. For the briefest moment, the self-righteous rage continued to burn in her eyes before her expression cleared.

"Sorry, what?" She drawled, still undecided as to whether she was going to disclose the visit she'd received, or what she was up to.

"Hello?" Vanessa countered sarcastically, waving a hand in front of Desdemona’s face.  "Are you actually here or is this a hologram?" Desdemona sulked up at her. 

“Sorry, was distracted,” Desdemona murmured contritely.  “What did you say?” 

Vanessa huffed down at the other woman still huddled on the couch and, quick as a whip, reached out and snatched the datapad right out of Desdemona's hands.  Desdemona let out a squawk of surprise, lunging after it, but Vanessa was too swift for her. She danced away a few steps and then had a look at what her twin had been up to.  "Oh," She breathed, going pale as she flipped through the numerous tabs, spotting their father's name on several, and his outfit on many more.

Desdemona bit her lip. Time to come clean.

"I got a visit from Major Gates today.  Blisk is apparently on the loose here on Harmony," Desdemona said, her lip curled angrily.  "They shot down Red-" Here she sounded almost sad, but plowed on, "but there was no body, and no datacore when they investigated the wreckage.  So of course investigations came to us..."

"On the loose...?" Vanessa parroted, looking confused. She did not, however, look nearly as surprised as Desdemona had been expecting her to.

"Well, it’s not like anyone would allow him here intentionally!" Desdemona snorted. 

Vanessa shifted where she stood, fidgeting.  Desdemona's eyes narrowed.

"What?" She demanded, easily reading her twin's body language.  Vanessa couldn't hold in a secret to save her life.

"I don't understand..." Vanessa began slowly, chewing her lip.  "We were sworn to secrecy, but why would they be looking for him when we had him at the hospital for three days...?"

Desdemona was on her feet in a flash.

"You _what_?!"  

Vanessa blushed guiltily. 

“I… We were sworn not to tell anyone but I was going to tell you as soon as I got home… I had no idea that there was an investigation…” Vanessa had assumed that the other commanders had all been in the loop as well. It didn't make sense to her that Blisk's potential presence on Harmony was being investigated when she was fairly certain General Briggs knew exactly where he was. She didn’t have time to ponder this too much, however, as she noticed her sister’s face turning red with ire. 

Oh, Desdemona was utterly furious.  

“Where is he?!” She demanded. 

“I’m not saying anything!” Vanessa countered, backing up a step and making a crossing sign over her lips as if sealing them.  "Let the Major do his thing but our orders were to go forward as if it never happened and I am _not_ risking my position now when I'm going to be a mother in a few months, do you understand?"

Desdemona gave her a stubborn, petulant stare.

"Fine. Give me your datapad. I'll figure it out myself."

"Leave it!" 

"You can hand it over, or you'll have to sleep sometime!" Desdemona was red-faced and looking almost crazed with violent intentions toward their father. "I don't feel like waiting on Major Gates! I'm gonna track that bastard down tonight and kill him myself. Problem solved!"

"You think can beat _him_ ?  Look I want him gone as much as you do but he's a _very talented murderer_ , Des!  Don’t go after him! You’re going to get what’s left of our little family torn apart, or worse still, get yourself killed!

“I sure will if I stumble on him! Tell me where he is so I can get the jump on the bastard!" Desdemona demanded, ignoring the warning altogether. Vanessa shook her head, refusing to answer. Desdemona tried to glare her down, but Vanessa simply stared coolly back, refusing to back down.  Desdemona's lower lip began to quiver furiously.

“You _know_ , Nessa, I can tell!  Who’s hiding him?! Is it _you!?_ ”

That, at last, piqued Vanessa’s outrage. 

“I’m not! You want to know who’s vetting him?!” She snapped, hoping that the news would shock Desdemona into at least temporary calm.  “Jack Cooper! _The_ . _Jack. Cooper!_   He had his Titan there in some human lookalike frame guarding Blisk the whole time.  We all know General Briggs would do anything for those guys, and it’s _them_ protecting him! If Major Gates doesn’t know, its because he’s not high up enough to _need_ to know so _leave it be!_ ”  She was outright yelling, right into her twin’s face by the time she finished.  

Desdemona stood reeling in stunned silence for all of about five seconds before she spun on her heel and stormed for the door.  

“Where the hell do you think you’re going, damn it?!” Vanessa demanded, her voice shrill.  The door slammed shut behind Desdemona as she left, but her shouted reply was perfectly audible in the hallway.

“To pay that guy Cooper a visit!” 

 

Back at base, a chime toned softly from a datapad on Major Gates' desk.  His eyebrows went up with interest. The hidden camera he’d placed outside the Fox residence was alerting him already when he’d barely been back in his office for ten minutes.  He brought up the live feed just in time to see Desdemona storming away, a determined lean to her long strides.  

“Bingo,” he smirked, closing the feed and cueing up his comm.  “Follow her,” said, grinning excitedly as he issued his orders, “but keep your distance until we know where she’s headed. I’m on my way.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY EVERYONE. This took almost exactly a month longer than I intended!! DX 
> 
> I had an absolute bitch of a time with this chapter. I have a funny hangup about OC's*, even (especially) my own. Unfortunately, I was a total dumbass and have written a story in which OC involvement is vital. Soooo I just spent the last three weeks trying to write this chapter without Vanessa OR Desdemona...and well... that's just not possible.  
> Worse still, you'll notice I'm rather shamelessly retconning some plot development to plug some gaping holes I've made for myself. This is why we OUTLINE our stories before we write them, people! So, I apologize for that and everything else! Hopefully, y'all can still enjoy the fic as it's conclusion draws near. 
> 
> *Pilot Ryan's OCs are immune to this, since he and I have been writing back and forth with them for so long they might as well be cannon in my head anyway, which is one of the reasons I love sprinkling them all over everything! (the other is simply because I love them all X) )


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Big finale!

\--24--

Twilight had fallen over the Cooper Ranch, and inside their cozy little home, BT, Jack, and Blisk all sat cuddled together on the couch contentedly sharing space in companionable silence as each pursued his own interests for the evening.  Even Red had joined them, settled back in the corner loveseat he'd unofficially claimed as his own. The two Titans had been murmuring happily to one another in soft bursts of binary for hours, the low buzz barely audible to the men. 

It was peaceful, and the mood for the evening seemed to set the precedent for their future together.  BT knew they soon would have the peace and safety they both longed for, but first, one more disturbance.

He was the only one in the group aware of them, but there were four different vehicles rushing to converge on their home, the silent alerts all pinging the Vanguard almost simultaneously.  He eased down the Neural Link, gently brushing across his Pilot’s consciousness, silently catching Jack’s attention and very briefly meeting his eye. One party, in fact, would arrive any minute.  It was time. 

Jack gave BT a slow blink and then let out a heavy breath, sitting up.  He wiggled out from where he'd been draped snugly against Blisk's side, standing quickly.  He turned, gazing down at Blisk for a moment, a tiny, secretive smile playing on his lips. He had nothing but love in his eyes as he leaned down over him, his hands warm where they braced on Blisk’s shoulders, his breath escaping in tiny, tremulous gusts.   Blisk sucked in a soft gasp as their noses bumped but didn’t pull away as Jack gently pressed in closer and closer until their lips brushed together in an electric slide of silken warmth. Blisk felt like he’d been shocked, his lips tingling and his chest and belly turning hot, and he let out a high, elated whine just before Jack pulled back to smile brilliantly back at him.  Without a word, he turned and headed into the bedroom. Blisk sat up, reeling from the kiss and baffled by Jack’s sudden departure, and looked around between Jack and BT questioningly. Did he follow? Was that an invitation?

BT stood as well, but his expression was serious, and the barest hint of concern dawned on Blisk's face.  The man had a keen intuition, and while BT and Jack had been hiding their secret well, he was beginning to sense something was amiss.  In the corner, Red let out a concerned chirrup as he picked up on his Pilot’s cartwheeling mood, tilting his head curiously. 

"Kuben..." BT reached down, taking Blisk's hands into his.  "You trust me, yes?" 

Genuine worry crumpled Blisk's features.  He nodded slowly.

"They’ve found us, haven't they?" He breathed, standing.  He let BT’s hands drop from his, his shoulders rapidly going rigid with tension, his face tightening with building anxiety as his mind raced. 

"Yes," BT confessed. "But, the General was kind enough to issue sufficient warning and-" he paused, tilting his head and glancing toward the front door as if he’d heard something. Blisk frowned, following BT’s attention but not detecting anything to indicate any changes outside.  "-help is here. We're leaving. Tonight. Now."

Blisk’s knees locked.  He didn’t want to leave.  He'd grown terribly attached to Jack and BT's beautiful little home.  Behind BT, Red was on his feet, flickering worriedly. 

"Well, you and Jack are," BT corrected. “I'll be catching up with you once I've ensured no-one follows."  Blisk shook his head, breathing the word, ‘no’ silently, but didn’t argue with BT’s decision any further. Jack returned back into the room, a jacket on, and another gathered in his arms for Blisk.  Blisk was attempting to formulate some sort of response when, without warning, the front door opened. 

This gave Blisk a terrible startle, and he issued a shout, slapping at first one hip and then the other, reflexively searching for any sort of weapon, only to find he had none.  Hot panic bubbled up inside of him, but it was Red who responded first to the potential threat.

Where the Legion had gotten the little six-shot pistol, or where he'd been hiding it, Blisk had no idea, but he leveled it on the face of the man in the doorway with a low growl.

"Who are you!?" 

For a beat, time seemed to freeze as Blisk, Jack and BT all exchanged surprised glances.  Red's optic had turned a menacingly dark shade as he glared, the Legion's rare streak of ferocity coming to light.  The intruder, however, didn't look surprised or even intimidated. Or, for that matter, concerned at all about the gun literal inches from his nose. He, like Blisk, was tall enough to be fairly close to eye-level with Red’s optic, and he spared the bot a flat look before turning away indifferently. 

"I thought you said everyone would be ready for us, BT," he murmured, his voice low and stone-cold calm. Red wavered, and then quickly lowered the weapon as BT sent the other Titan a fast databurst to stand down. 

"S-sorry!" He stammered, his biolights going dim with embarrassment as he stowed the pistol back in one of his pockets. 

"Nearly so," BT said brightly as if nothing had happened.  "You're a shade early. Kuben, this is- hmm." BT paused, catching the look on Blisk's face.

He was staring wide-eyed at the stranger, startled by his appearance as he took him in.  

His dark uniform was unfamiliar, but his posture was stern, suggesting a long militant history, and he carried an air of complete, unflappable confidence.  Blisk had no uncertainty whatsoever that anything this man wanted to accomplish would happen as if ordained. He was acutely aware, somehow, that he could just as easily convince a man to slit his own throat as he could make himself a sandwich, and both with equal indifference. It wasn't just his cool, confident demeanor that stood out.  Platinum silver hair trimmed neat and short shone in direct defiance to his apparent youth, giving his otherwise generally handsome features a sort of exotic strangeness. Even more striking than that, however, were his eyes. Rich ocean blue, unlike anything Blisk had ever seen, stared back icily at him like mirrors, the stranger's gaze closed off and guarded, as cold and deep as space.  Blisk shivered as he stared back and briefly thought of what drowning would feel like as a nasty little stab of fear shook him.  

Blisk was certain he should know who this man was, but he was too shaken to bring the name to mind.  Ever since that last battle, the edges of Blisk’s memory had been blurred, and things he knew he should remember remained disconcertingly just out of reach, especially in emotionally charged situations such as this one.

"Kuben, this is Justin MacLiam," BT went on, seemingly oblivious to how rattled the freshly retired merc had become.  Blisk frowned slightly. Justin... _ Justin... _ He didn’t look like a plain ‘ol  _ Justin  _ kind of guy _. _   Something about him clamored in the back of Blisk’s mind, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.  He couldn’t quite recall, but he thought for sure this Justin person answered to something else. Despite BT's relaxed attitude, he was  _ certain _ they were in peril. He took a long step back.

"Kuben Blisk," the man, Justin, spoke softly as ever, but his electrifying stare had Blisk paralyzed with its intensity. "I've been chasing you for  _ years _ ... funny it should end up like this." His tone of voice suggested it wasn't funny at all, and he offered a thin, vaguely predatory smile.  Blisk desperately fumbled for a witty comeback, but it seemed his words had betrayed him entirely, leaving him speechless. Despite his best efforts, his only response was to grimace. That gaze made him feel like he was being dissected.

"Well well well," The spell between them was broken as yet another figure arrived in the doorway. General Briggs.  Justin looked away to glance back her direction, and Blisk sucked in a soft, rattling breath of relief. 

Boy, was he glad to see  _ her _ .  Oh, he’d never imagined a day would come when he’d be relieved to see  _ Princess _ Briggs, but compared to this other guy, Blisk was more than happy to take his chances with her.

 "So that's what you've been plotting, BT." Briggs tittered.  She was smiling broadly and gave the stranger an affectionate rap on the shoulder as she squeezed past him.  Blisk watched as Justin’s face seemed to shift, his countenance suddenly becoming significantly friendlier, and almost unrecognizable compared to who he’d been a moment earlier.  Blisk backed up another step, bumping into Jack. "It's good to see you, Frost!”

_ Frost! _ ? Blisk choked out a curse as the bells in his head rang with deafening force.

"You're th' Ghost Assassin!"  He blurted, going pale and edging back another step so that he was partially blocking Jack.  The man's voice, along with the callsign, had finally clicked into place in his memories. Frost was the name of a professional killer unlike anything else the Frontier had ever seen.  He was the stuff of nightmares for the IMC, a veritable one-man army that was even rumored to single-handedly have erased an entire battleship without a trace. Blisk was one of the very lucky few who’d managed to escape a run-in with him.  He’d never gotten a look at Frost’s face, but there wasn't much in the world that scared him quite like that voice. Putting a face to the one predator higher on the food chain than himself hadn't helped temper his very real fear at all. 

Beside him, sweet, sunny Jack smiled at this frightening man and seemed to lurch forward without moving, as if he'd almost rushed in for a hug but stopped himself last second.  Blisk looked over at Jack in shock. Didn’t he see all the red flags?! Couldn’t he smell danger on this guy?! The brutal irony that he was just as alarming, just as dangerous, but somehow deemed loveable also, was lost on Blisk.  Jack spoke at the same time as Blisk, his tone far friendlier.

"Hi, Justin," he breathed, giving a little finger wave.  Frost offered Jack a brief flash of a grin so genuine and warm that it set Blisk's heart pattering and his head reeling, but then his attention returned to the former merc and that glimpse of warmth vanished.

"I am.  I'm impressed.  You're a slippery man, Blisk."

"Ah'm gonna stay slippery..." Blisk growled, stepping back another pace so that he was almost in line with the couch again. "Red, get over here..." Red turned back toward his Pilot, but BT held out an arm, stopping him.  Another bleat of binary passed between them, and the Legion relaxed. 

"Kuben please settle down," BT sighed. "I wouldn't summon Frost here if he were a danger to you. Trust me.  _ Please _ ." Blisk hesitated.

"You guys need to shift it," Briggs warned, unabashedly smirking at Blisk’s obvious discomfort.  "I don't think I beat Gates here by more than a couple of minutes." 

On cue, they could hear a vehicle skid to a hurried stop just outside.  Jack winced, not happy to think about his yard getting driven over. Frost took one long step to the side, positioning himself by coincidence beside Red, his attention pivoting away from Blisk to their newest arrival.

It was not Gates that burst in, eyes flashing and weapon drawn, but a young woman.

Blisk turned paler than ever. He’d abruptly found himself staring down the barrel of an R-201 Carbine into the blazing eyes of his youngest, by eight minutes, daughter. Her lip curled as she glared at Blisk, and she corrected her aim to center her sights right on her father’s nose.  Blisk grabbed Jack by the shoulder and hauled him safely aside, but made no move to evade her himself. 

“Any last words, jackass?”

"What the hell?!" Briggs demanded, even as Blisk slowly raised his hands in surrender. "Stand down, soldier!" She barked, but Desdemona didn't budge.

"My, what familiar eyes you have," BT purred, gliding his way over to place himself directly between the young woman and her father as he offered her his most disarming smile.  Despite her surly expression, Desdemona’s cheeks heated. BT knew full well how handsome he was, and had no qualms using it to his advantage. "Tell me," BT went on, dropping his voice into something saccharine and downright velvety in an attempt to charm her, "Which one are you? Vanessa, or Desdemona?" She didn’t need to know he already knew the answer.  His charm wasn’t enough to calm a lifetime of anger, however, and her expression turned hellishly cold, her blush fading away as she glared daggers at him.

"Told you about us, did he?" She spat. “Did he feed you some sob story about his long lost babies to prove he wasn’t a monster?!”  Behind BT, Blisk look genuinely hurt. She sneered over BT’s shoulder at him, perfectly aware her words cut.  

"The man you're after died when your mother murdered him," BT corrected her gently.  He was unperturbed by her attitude, but also dropped the saucy approach when he realized she wouldn’t take the bait.  "Yes, the shell lives on, but he's not who you remember." Her grip on her carbine didn't waver. She didn’t want to hear it.

"Liar!" BT’s smile only sweetened at the accusation. 

"I’m not lying,” BT purred.  “I'm merely a Vanguard Titan, wearing a fancy chassis.  Despite how I look, I'm not human. I’m no more than a sophisticated AI and as such am beholden to all of the programming of one.  As I’m sure you know, it is therefore impossible for me to lie," BT lied, smiling benignly. In a less dire situation, Blisk would have laughed.  Uncertainty flooded Desdemona’s face, her resolve wavering, but still, she held her ground.  

"Kid, put the gun down," Frost rumbled, taking a sterner approach.  Desdemona didn't so much as look at him.

"Buzz off, mister," she growled, her confidence bolstering once more.  "This is way overdue and I'm not letting anyone stop me."

A look of horror crossed Blisk's face at her words. 

"Des, no!" Red wheezed.  Frost squared his shoulders, looking miffed.

"Miss Fox," he began, voice dangerously level. "Do you know who I am?" The muzzle of her weapon sagged as she looked back at him, not missing the deadly ice in his tone. "No? Do you know  _ why _ you don't know who I am, Miss Fox?" He clearly knew who she was.  "It's because most of the people who meet me disappear forever. Yes, some were relocated like Jack and Kuben here will be.  The rest aren't in pieces large enough to attempt burial. I only have two open seats on my ship tonight, so please reconsider your behavior."

Desdemona was definitely reconsidering now, but she hadn't backed down yet.  Briggs looked terribly worried. Red was starting to fidget. 

"You got Scythe," Blisk gasped, realization dawning as to why he hadn’t been able to reach the most savagely effective Pilot he’d ever met for over a year. Frost pinned him with his eyes again and Blisk really regretted having spoken.

"Yes I did," Frost said evenly.

"Des, listen to me," Blisk breathed, pleading.  "Just this once, yeah? You do whatever this man asks of you and you do it with a salute and a smile and make sure ya keep doin' it fer th' rest a your life cause he'll know if ya don't and he doesn't fire warning shots, understand?"  

Frost flashed another bright, chilling smile.

"You  _ do _ remember me," he said, feigning joy, "I'm flattered."

"Second scariest day of my life," Blisk confessed.  "Won't ever forget." He didn’t elaborate on what had happened, but both men were clearly remembering the same event.

"It was one of the most frustrating of mine," Frost growled, the fake smile vanishing.  Desdemona had gone sheet white, finally noticing what her father had sensed from the moment Frost had stepped into view.

"That's all behind us now," BT reminded.  Frost’s increasingly arctic demeanor softened slightly.

"Of course.  Miss Fox, I won't repeat my request again. Please stand down."

She looked furious, but this time, she complied.  Briggs and Blisk both shared a sigh of relief in unison.

It was then that, late to the party, Major Gates finally arrived.  He dashed headlong into the house, darting right past Frost without seeming to even notice him, his own rifle held high at the ready.

"Hands in the air!"  Briggs and Jack both cringed at the volume of the Major’s shout.   A glance outside showed them a half dozen other men in dark armor clustered around the porch, guns up. 

"Hands,  _ down _ , Major!" Briggs spat, her hand darting out to shove the muzzle of his rifle down demandingly.  

"General Briggs!" He squawked, eyes darting from the General to the young woman, to Blisk and back questioningly. "I was right! This girl is helping her-"

“Am not!” Desdemona squawked. 

"Major Gates, you have entirely the wrong impression of what's going on here," Frost broke in, his voice stern.  Gates jumped slightly, spinning on his heels to face Frost.

"Commander MacLiam, Sir!"  Gates' voice cracked tellingly on the name as he snapped to attention, saluting hastily.  Desdemona's jaw dropped. Gates had scared her something awful, but he looked like a kitten next to this unfamiliar Commander.  Despite herself, she glanced back at her father questioningly. Blisk's eyes were getting bigger and bigger. "I... this man is who we've been after!” Gates fumbled.  “Kuben Blisk, the leader of the A-"

"I know who Kuben Blisk is, Major," Frost said, waving Gates down.  The Major dropped his weapon to rest and stood at sharp attention as he was fixed with that icy stare. Satisfied, he looked from Briggs to BT and Jack, then to Blisk. "General Commander Hughes and I understand that Kuben Blisk perished in the Battle of Harmony along with the majority of the remnants of the IMC." He turned away from Gates, ignoring his soft sputters of protest.  "Rest assured, you wouldn't be the first poor soul seeking asylum with our group due to their unfortunate resemblance to a known war criminal," he told Blisk, cool as a cucumber as he delivered the best line of bullshit anyone present had heard all year. Blisk’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead in surprise. This guy really had earned his nickname, hadn’t he?

Gates looked gobsmacked, as did Desdemona, but BT grinned brilliantly.  

Blisk slowly relaxed as Frost’s words fully sunk in and he finally realized the extent of what BT had orchestrated. 

"He did," Blisk breathed earnestly. "An' every day forward is a day further away from that guy."  Frost allowed Blisk a brief, friendly smile, the mysterious Commander pleased with his words.

"Major Gates," He turned on Gates, waiting until the man had straightened up again and saluted smartly before carrying on.  "You're dismissed. This case is closed and it is not to be opened again. Blisk is dead. Take your men and go home." Gates opened his mouth to protest, but Frost cut him off. "This is not open for discussion, Major.  Take Miss Fox with you and see that she gets home safely. I hear she has a nephew on the way. She belongs with her sister, celebrating." He reached out, boldly plucking Gates' weapon from his loosening grip, and handed it to Briggs.  A stern look to Desdemona had her handing her own weapon over as well. Gates gaped at him in shock. Frost frowned. "What was that? He murmured dangerously. "I didn't hear you."

"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Commander!"   With that, Gates hustled out, ushering Desdemona along with him, and promptly herding his men back into their truck, his posture distinctly hangdog.  Briggs watched them go through the still-open door until they'd vanished over the rise, then heaved out a heavy sigh, sagging somewhat where she stood. 

"Thank you, Justin," she wheezed, relieved to have avoided any altercations.  "A little warning would have been nice," she added tartly, giving BT a sour look.

"That guy's a try-hard," Frost muttered, relaxing significantly as well.  BT was still smiling broadly, unrepentant. "Sarah," Frost went on, sounding weary, "would you please make sure he gets the girl home and stays out of trouble?  I'll handle things from here." 

The General nodded, smiling and offering Frost another heartfelt handshake before leaving.  Blisk took one last step back to sit heavily on the couch, his knees knocking faintly. 

"What th' hell jus' happened?" He asked no-one in particular. 

"Unfortunately, Major Gates operates outside of the Marauder Corps, so the General wasn't able to intervene with his investigation of your presence on Harmony," BT explained.  "Sooo," He smiled lazily at Frost. "I called in a bigger fish. Justin doubles as, among other things, the head of the Militia Black Ops. There are very few who would go against his word and even fewer who would do so successfully." 

"No shit," Blisk muttered, still looking uneasy. 

"Justin is our friend," Jack broke in, moving to sit snugly against Blisk's side as he reassured the ex-merc.  "Whatever happened in the past is in the past now, right?"

Frost - Justin- nodded.   

"If Jack and BT say you're alright, I believe them," he confirmed, the ice thawing as if it had never been there as he shifted out of work mode.  

 For a few moments, Blisk simply looked between his new loves and Frost, still trying to puzzle the man out in his head.  Watching him shift from one persona to the other made Blisk realize they might have a few things in common. It was surprisingly reassuring.

 At last, he broke the silence with the one question that kept bouncing around in his head, drowning out all the others.

    "So now what?" He asked, anxious. "Ya mentioned relocatin'..." He didn't want to leave, but he knew he couldn't stay on Harmony any longer.  Even with Frost and Brigg’s significant influences sheltering them, sooner or later, someone would come back for him. It was too dangerous. His time was up. 

    "Yes," Frost interrupted his spiraling thoughts.  "My group has control of an entire planet, off the charts and safe from both the IMC, as well as the Militia's influence, and I intend to keep it that way, if not forever, then at least until I've verified the war is truly over once and for all." Blisk frowned, baffled by the inclusion of the Militia in that statement.  Was Frost a third party, then? He must be. Blisk kept his questions to himself and didn't interrupt. "I was telling the truth, earlier, when I said you wouldn't be the first to gain asylum with us. We'd like to keep you under observation for a while, considering your history, but from there, you're free to do as you wish, though I’d hope you’ll consider employment.  I could use a man of your talents...for appropriate compensation, of course. Your pal Scythe has absolutely flourished under my command. I’d like to think you would as well.” Frost flashed him a brief, almost mischevious grin. “It’s up to you, though,” he added, the look vanishing as quickly as it had arrived. “You’re free to remain retired if you’d like, as well." Blisk’s eyebrows shot up.  Just what kind of operation was this guy running? Frost looked all around their home, smiling softly. "I think you boys will like Refuge..." He murmured, almost to himself. 

 

Now that the dust had settled, at least for the time being, they were allowed the time to pack a few belongings.  Blisk helped Jack stow some of his baubles safely layered between clothing in the tub of essentials BT had given him.   Red gave his pistol back to BT, but brought along his jacket and, oddly, a single flower straight out of the bunch Blisk had collected the day before. Frost watched him place it atop everything else with a tiny, secret smile. 

Once everyone was set, he led the men and their Titans out into the night, following a path that circumvented Jack’s garden to seemingly march off into the wilderness.  

“We walkin’?”  Blisk murmured, still uneasy but fighting hard to trust BT and Jack.  His legs ached but he wasn’t going to mention that unless he had to.

“Almost there,” Frost assured, shooting a rather smug grin over his shoulder at the ex-merc. A dozen more paces and he stopped abruptly and tapped his ear.  “Open her up, we’re ready to go.”

 Blisk let out a shout of surprise so loud it echoed through the valley.  An enormous cruiser, easily the size of a city skyscraper or bigger, seemed to manifest out of thin air right above them, a loading ramp big enough to accommodate a Titan dropping not ten feet ahead of Frost. The ship hovered in perfect silence, blacking out the stars overhead and obscuring the horizon.  Not one of the steady stream of uninvited visitors to have come or gone that evening had noticed it lurking almost within arm’s reach.  

Jack and BT both broke into gleeful giggles, and after a beat, Frost joined in with a low, warm chuckle. 

“Mother  _ fucker _ !” Blisk wheezed, stunned.  “Thas’ a bigass bird…!” He’d never seen such a comprehensive stealth system before.  This was technology well beyond the realm of both the IMC and the Militia, or anything else that he could think of.  Frost wasn’t the only part of his outfit, then, that was on the terrifying side of impressive.

“Kuben,” Red grumbled, Jack still giggling beside him, “I think we’ve been punked.” 

“Oh, only a little,” BT purred, turning to face he and Blisk.  “You’ll find Justin is full of pleasant surprises. Now,” he slid up to Jack, cradling his face in both hands and gazing lovingly into his eyes.  “Take good care of Kuben and Red, my love,” he told him, dipping in for a long, lingering kiss. “I’ll be along as soon as I’ve seen to everything here.”  Jack nodded bravely, his jaw set. 

“Yer really not comin’?” Blisk blurted.  

“Well, someone has to pack,” BT purred, smiling. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m sure you won’t have the opportunity to miss me.”

“Kind’a already do…” Blisk murmured, trying not to look too disappointed and failing. He’d glanced away but now looked back to see BT closing in on him with the same adoring look he’d given Jack aimed right at him.  Blisk gasped, his heart leaping up into his mouth as BT wound his arms around his shoulders and leaned in, giving him the barest, briefest brush of his lips before pulling back again.  

“Oh, I’d  _ hoped _ you would say something like that, Kuben!” He sighed, giving Blisk’s cheek a little caress before he backed away.  Blisk stood frozen in delighted shock, a tiny crooked smile gracing his features along with a blush bright enough to be visible even in the dark.  Behind them, Frost let out a low whistle.  

“You could weaponize that, BT,” he chuckled. Jack tittered happily, sidling up to Blisk and twining their fingers together and giving his hand a squeeze.  Blisk shook himself out of his daze and let out a high, happy laugh. 

“Goddamn…!”

“I’ll leave that to you, my dear,” BT told frost, giving him a saucy smile and then blowing him a kiss before turning and sauntering back through the night toward the house.  “Take care, my loves!” Blisk and Jack were too busy watching him go to see Frost mime catching BT’s kiss with one hand, but Red let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in wonderment. 

“Awright gentlemen!” A voice, jovial and thick with a friendly southern accent, boomed down from somewhere inside the loading bay. “Get movin’ or Ah’m leavin’ without’cha!” Blisk grimaced, but Frost only laughed.

“You heard him!  I’ll give you the ten-cent tour…” 

They fell into step behind him as he lead them aboard, but Blisk lagged behind a few paces with Jack.

“You sure ‘bout this?” He murmured. “Abandonin’ everything ta run off ta who knows where an completely startin’ over?  It’s beautiful here… Seems pretty damned extreme…” 

Jack smiled up at Blisk, not missing a step as he stretched up to give him a quick kiss as they walked.  Blisk, his lips still buzzing from BT’s parting kiss, felt fit to sing with joy.

“I’m sure.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!BT USES SUMMON BIGGER FISH! IT'S SUPER EFFECTIVE!!!
> 
> THAT'S IT! You'll get a little encore Epilogue soon, of course...but that's it. That's the thing! 
> 
> Ya'll are gonna be real shocked (not lol) to learn that Frost, of course, is another delightful OC that belongs to @Pilot Ryan! Frost, however, is extra special to me, and is definitely one of my all-time favorite characters for anything. I've been SO super excited to get to include him in one of my fics so that I could introduce you all to him. I really, really hope you all love him as much as I do, and if you do, make sure to say something so Ry sees it too!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, since none of you asked: The easter-egg names in Blisk's Comm: Three pilots from Top Gun: Nick Bradshaw AKA "Goose", Mike Metcalf aka "VIPER" and Pete Mitchell aka "Maverick" 
> 
> AND FINALLY... Credit where Credit is due... It might seem a bit pedantic to list EVERYTHING like this, but this is really important to me so please see below for complete credit regarding which OC's etc belong to whom:  
> Pilot Ryan Aka SunGryphon: All used with explicit permission  
> OCs:  
> Jace Ryan/"Scythe"  
> Nate Ryan (mention)  
> Justin "Frost" MacLiam  
> General Commander Hughes  
> Other:  
> Theta (Frost's operation)  
> the stealth ship ("Invictus")  
> Refuge  
> Avalon Scotch  
> **BT's human appearance: Ry had designed it aaaaaaages ago and I gladly drank the koolaid.
> 
> Mine (Please do not use without permission)  
> OCs:  
> Desdemona, Vanessa & Meredith Fox  
> The personification of Blisk's Legion as "Red"  
> Major Reyes Gates  
> Lieutenant Lance Matherson  
> (other honorable mentions go to Roderick Austad, Dr. Baker, Conrad Carr, "Dutchess", & Merik Loveless)  
> The Planets Bohr & Perlas are mine as well. Again please do not use any of this without permission from rightful owners.


	25. Happily Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is good.

\--25---

Three days later, they stood side-by-side in the shadow of the enormous ship, one step off the ramp onto the tarmac, Pilot and Titan alike completely stunned.  They'd been greeted with the sound of waves and the sweet scent of warm, fresh sea air, and that alone had made Blisk's spirit rise, but the view had stopped him in his tracks.  Blisk had been to some beautiful worlds in his time. The bar was high, especially after several days of near heavenly bliss at the Cooper ranch on Harmony, but this was the stuff of Blisk's deepest reaching daydreams. His throat closed as he gazed out over Caribbean blue waters to the azure horizon, the distant point of infinity glittering under the light of binary suns framed by puffy white clouds slowly building their way into what would likely become afternoon thunder cells. In the distance, something breached the water with a tremendous splash.  Beside him, Red shuddered and issued a tiny chirp of awe.

"It's just like you've always-"

"It's _beautiful_ ," Blisk breathed, turning slowly.  To the right, a sprawling military base, and a picturesque little town beyond, to the left, a long, arcing beach with pristine golden-white sand.  Beyond in either direction, tropical jungles sprawling up the gradual slopes of a mighty mountain range that sheltered the cove along which Refuge had been built. 

"Gentlemen," Frost rumbled from behind, smiling somewhat smugly to himself. "Welcome to your new home." 

Jack slid up beside him, silently threading his fingers into Blisk's and giving his hand a squeeze.  Their pasts seemed to vanish, and the future was as crisp and clear and full of potential as that perfect blue horizon. 

 

\---

 

A gentle breeze passed through the little bungalow by the sea; cool, and sweet with the scent of orchids, setting wind chimes and mobiles of shells and driftwood gently tinkling.  One of the windows had been replaced by a familiar stained glass panel that sent spots of color dancing lazily across the living room as beyond, binary suns eased out of their apex toward the blue horizon. Off the covered back porch, overlooking the water, a pair of gnarled pink and silver bonsai floated and bobbed against the tethers keeping the gravity-defying boulders housing them from drifting away.  Moss had grown thick and rich among the roots and indigenous orchids dangled from their flourishing canopies. A big bucket full of pretty shells and water-tumbled stones sat waiting for its next treasure at the base of the steps leading off into the sand. A half dozen pairs of shoes sat clustered around it. 

In the shade of the overhang, a swing-bench hung, supporting an absolute mountain of a man.  Standing, he was nearly seven feet tall with the build of a lumberjack. His shoulders were almost too wide for normal doorways, and he comfortably filled the seat built for two. Long, ruddy hair was pulled back tight from the dark skin of his forehead into a high, wild ponytail that balanced his equally wild and bushy red beard, and his inhuman, crimson eyes crinkled with the start of crows feet at the corners.  He'd be a terribly frightening sight if it weren't for the tender smile he wore as he watched the group out in the water below. Frost, Jack, Scythe and his twin brother Nate all clustered around Blisk in the water, listening intently as he sat straddling a surfboard, talking and making dramatic gestures with his hands as they bobbed together in the gentle waves. Seated side-by-side just shy of the water, the twins' Titans, each with their own human-replica frames, listened in with rapt interest. Further out to sea, larger swells were just right for Blisk's ever-growing family to learn to surf on. 

"Not swimming today?"  BT rumbled, padding out to stand at the railing, propping himself by his arms on it, his posture relaxed as he shot a smile back at Red.

"Naah," Red chuckled, straightening up in his seat and somehow managing to scoot far enough against one edge of the swing to make room for the other Titan. "Kuben gets too self-conscious when I'm close by still.  You?"

BT laughed, soft and fond.

"No.  Today, I'd prefer to stay up here with you, I think."  His eyes were on his lovers down in the water, but he shot Red a loaded glance and a warm smile as he nestled himself into the gap Red had made for him on the seat.  Red let out a happy chirr and wound an arm around BT's shoulders, tugging him in even closer against his side. Down below, someone instigated a water fight and Blisk's lesson fell apart into chaos.  Judging by his raucous laughter, easy to hear even at a distance, the ex-merc didn't mind much. BT snorted softly as Frost yanked Jack off his board into the water, the Pilot shrieking and laughing as he went in.  Both Titans fell comfortably pensive as they watched the mischief unfold with matching smiles. The Northstar and Ronin on the beach, as inseparable as their twin pilots, rose together and charged as one into the fray. 

"Did you know," Red rumbled, getting comfortable against BT, "that day on Bohr when you sent me your comm codes...that it would come to this?"

"I had a hunch, yes," BT sighed, leaning in to lay a little kiss high on Red's cheek away from his beard. "I hoped... Yes.  I think I knew, somehow. Not the details, of course. I'm no oracle," BT added with a chuckle. "But I knew, somehow, we'd all be happy someday.  It happened far more succinctly than I could have ever dreamed, though."

"Kuben's happy," Red whispered.  "I didn't know it was actually possible for a person to be as happy as he is. It's unbelievable."  Out in the water, said Pilot had teamed up with Frost and Jack against the twins and their Titans. Frost's laughter, an extremely rare occurrence outside of his time with this small group, in particular, boomed out over even Blisk's, and Red quietly indulged in a little recording of the jovial sounds.

"Jack is euphoric," BT chuckled brightly, grinning as at that very moment they watched Blisk catch the younger Pilot and give him a fierce, fleeting kiss that made the others all cheer and whoop in delight. "We've been here four-hundred and eighty-two days, and not once has he yet to miss Harmony, or the Militia, or any part of our old lives at all. If I wasn't witnessing it first hand I'd never have believed it."

Red nodded sagely in agreement. Blisk's rapid, all-encompassing transformation had been almost unnerving at first.  Oh, there were still bad nights: flashbacks and self-doubt, niggling hints at irreparable damage to his psyche, but for the most part, he was utterly unrecognizable as the damaged, defeated man of his past. It was a dream come true for Red.

“And what about you?” He asked BT.

For a very long time, BT didn’t answer.  He gazed back at Red, his expression soft, almost vulnerable even, and overflowing with love and joy.  Finally, he turned his attention back out to the water, leaning in to prop his head lovingly on Red’s shoulder.  Only then, did he give an answer.

“I couldn’t be happier, Red.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Ryan~
> 
> That's it! Party's over, everyone can go home now <3

**Author's Note:**

> You're all going to see a lot of familiar themes from my other fics with this one. You also might notice a few vagues that will reference back to stuff I haven't written yet. Just... bear with me. Trust me. It'll all make sense, I promise. I have this massively detailed lifetime biography of Blisk in my head, and eventually, I'm going to get my shit together enough for ya'll to see it. 
> 
> PS: Yay! I'm not dead. Just. Really. Friggen. Busy. And intermittently suffering from annoying health issues. So. Slower updates.  
> (Not a WORD about Imagine a Safe Place, I'm WORKING on it I promise!)


End file.
